The Path to Redemption: Exile
by Scarlight61
Summary: Prince Hans has been exiled from the Southern Isles, and with a newly obtained power that seems uncontrollable, the frightened former prince realizes that there is only one place he can go to seek the help he needs: Arendelle. However, to acquire the control he needs, and keep himself and others safe from harm, Hans must have the people he tried to murder forgive him. [Helsa]
1. Chapter 1

The room was a pool of darkness and the aroma of mold would make even the flies sick. The only sound that had been heard for months on end was the rhymic leaking of water as it fell to the ground. A figure sat in the middle of the darkened room, its wrists chaffed from the metal shackles that it had adorned for too long. It had spent too much time in its cell. There were 596 tiles in all. There were twenty links in the chains that suspended its arms above its head and twenty-five in the chains on both ankles, Hans had zero tolerance left for all of it.

He scratched his hair constantly, like a dog swatting at fleas. His sewage-like odor kept even the mice away from the dark, hellish dungeon. Months ago, he would have been on higher ground, wearing lavish suits, dancing with beautiful women. Eating only the best meals their servants could make. And now, he was the lowest of the low, left to rot away in a single cell. He'd waited for his sentencing. After what had happened in Arendelle, he was told he would be dealt with. What that meant, he didn't know, and when he would be dealt with was even more of a mystery.

He'd just wanted to get ahead. He'd wanted to do something with his life instead of rot away uselessly in a castle that would have never been his. He may just have been born a peasant. His brothers all off to bigger and better things. And here he was in a dungeon cell, waiting for the people he hated, the people who, at their core, were worse than him, and unfit to judge him for his crimes.

His ears perked up when he heard the sound of footsteps. At first, quiet, creeping, but then, monstrous as they drew closer. It hurt his ears, having heard nothing but silence for quite a while. The footsteps cease, and the jangling of keys outside his door. The lock clicked, and the door swung wide open.

The light stung his sensitive emerald eyes, and every blink was a challenge for him. He forced his eyes shut, unable to get them to adjust to the sudden light. They slowly fluttered open, centimeter by centimeter. He was vaguely able to make out the silhouette of a guard, who, every time he blinked, came closer.

"You're lucky his Majesty is getting you out now." The guard's footsteps came closer to Hans, and the keys clinked together once again as he scrambled for the right one "He was thinking of letting you just die in here. That would have been fine by me."

Hans felt the release of the shackle on his right arm. His wrists had never felt so good. Although they stung from the skin that had been torn off, he could move it at least. The same release was then done to the left. Both hands sunk into Hans's lap, and his eyes finally adjusted to the light in the hallway. He looked at the back of his palms that were black with soot. He clenched his fingers, the movement now unfamiliar to him. Months ago he had used these hands to almost murder the queen. To almost have his throne. The shackles on his foot fell to the ground, and the guard pulled Hans to his feet, pushing him towards the door. "Move." He commanded.

Hans looked up at the guard, at the white and red of his uniform, and the golden badge on his chest. This was the captain of the guard, which meant this was also his longtime friend. "Roman," Hans began, his voice quiet and coarse. "Nice to see you too."

"Move." The guard reinforced. Hans limped slowly out of the cell, his legs hadn't yet gotten the strength to walk fluidly again, and when he got into the light, specs of red had formed on his feet. Each time he took a step, the same red would be left behind him in blotches, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. His feet ached from the blisters he could feel underneath. Each step was agony. He almost wanted to go back into that cell.

Hans climbed slowly up the spiraling staircase, biting the inside of his teeth. By the gods, he was in pain, and he knew that was what his father and his brothers wanted. All of this was punishment. Everything they had done to him from the moment he'd returned from Arendelle was torture him. They made him shovel the dung from the stables. They made him kiss their boots after long hikes in the rain. They degraded him. Embarrassed him. They made sure he knew he was beneath them.

He emerged into the hallways of the castle, and the fresh air was enlightening. It gave him a high of relief. He was glad to be out of that rotten place. He stopped to take a deep breath, but the guard took that moment away with a shove from behind. Hans growled and clenched his fists as he continued to walk towards the large double doors that led to the throne room. To his place of judgment. He gulped as they came closer, and a fear came over him. A sinking feeling in his chest. He could be sentenced to death for his crimes. His mind racked with all the worst possibilities, all the worst punishments he could think of. He didn't have time to calm his thoughts before the doors of the throne room opened for him Roman shoved him inside. Hans stumbled forward, the pain in his feet causing his knees to buckle, and he kneeled in the middle of the room. His head hung low as he tried to cope with the pain, and when the stinging in his feet and head subsided, he looked up.

There, on top of a dais was a scarlet throne with lavish whorl designs, and in that throne, sat his father. Large, but only with muscle, and the signature strawberry blonde Westergard hair. He had a well-defined goatee, one that he never bothered to shave, and he wore the most extravagant red suit and cape Hans had ever seen. He was a picture of elegance and rage all in one. To both sides of the king, were his brothers, six on each side. Perfectly balanced, and each was dressed in a white velvet suit lined with gold and red.

"King Charlemagne," Roman announced, kneeling before his king. "the prisoner."

The King sat with one leg crossed over the other, his cheek resting in the palm of one of his hands. He looked bored, but mostly, he looked disappointed. Hans couldn't bring himself to look into his eyes. "Hans..." The king began, shaking his head. "I don't know where to begin with you." He said, anger leaking into his tone by the end of the sentence. "Disgraced." He hissed. "You _disgraced_ us!" The king yelled, his voice filling the whole of the large room, and Hans was pretty sure his voice reached the whole of the people in town as well.

Hans kept his head low in shame. He wouldn't argue. There was nothing he could say. He just let his father speak. "Do you know what the what the Terminal Accords are, Hans?" He asked curiously.

Hans didn't look up at his father as he answered. "It's the treaty signed by the rules of Arendelle and the Southern Isles to prevent conflict between the two kingdoms." He answered.

Charles chuckled at his answer, rubbing his temple. "I sent you there to make connections, Hans." Charles began, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an envelope. Hans watched him as he opened the paper, spotting a familiar crest. A flower silhouette.

The crest of Arendelle.

"I sent you there because I thought you could handle the responsibility." Charles glared into the prisoner's eyes as he pulled out a thin piece of paper from the envelope. "But instead, you return, and I get this."

He held the letter up so Hans could see, and then he unfolded it and began to read.

"King Charles, your son has violated the terms of the Terminal Accords signed by the rules of Arendelle and the Southern Isles and has violated more than fifty of Arendelle's laws. His actions are inexcusable, and I suggest you take action and punish Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles to the full extent of your Kingdom's laws. If not, then the court of Arendelle will oversee his punishment. "

Charles looked at Hans as he crumpled the letter in his hands. "Signed, Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

Hans clenched his jaw when he heard the queen's name. He wanted nothing more than to reverse time and finish her off.

"You don't seem to understand the implications of this, Hans." Charles continued. "That woman is the most powerful being on this earth." He growled. "Do you know what could happen if she got mad? All our food would be gone. Frozen. Dead. Our trade could be stopped in a matter of seconds. We could be rendered useless with the simple snap of her fingers, and you had the audacity to go and try and kill her!?" Charles leaned forward in his throne, sneering. "Fool." He hissed. "You've always been a useless fool."

Hans looked up at his father, baring his teeth in anger. Charles simply glared back, daring Hans to challenge him. And when not a single word escaped from Hans's mouth, Charles spoke again. "You will be exiled, Hans."

Hans's eyes went wide. "What?! But I-"

"You cannot stay here any longer." Charles interrupted, slamming his fists on the arms of the throne. "You have put a stain on our family's reputation. I cannot harbor a traitor."

Hans's heart pounded with rage. His fingers curled inward, making a fist as Charles spoke his final words. "Throw this disgrace into the ocean. Let him die if you wish."

Hans's mouth went agape as Charles rose from his throne, beginning his descent out of the room, and his brothers, all in pairs of two marched out perfectly behind their king. Each of them gave Hans glares and snickers.

"Wonderful job, brother." One of them voiced. "I knew no one could be worse than you."

Hans raised his head, meeting the eyes of the redhead that walked passed him. He was tall, slender, and his hair was cut and groomed to perfection. Every strand was even, and it framed his rectangle fact perfectly. His sideburns overpowered the stubbles of facial hair on his chin. "Shut up, Jehan." Hans hissed.

The man shook his head and continued off with the rest of the precession of his siblings, and Hans was left to grovel on his knees before the empty throne. There would be times he would sit on it when no one was around, pretending to be what he knew he never could. He was jolted away from his thoughts by a tugging on his arm. "Up," Roman commanded, forcing Hans to stand on his aching feet. "Move."

Hans walked slowly, limping and trying every minute to shake Roman's hands off him. There was nothing left inside of him other than fear. He couldn't believe what his own father had said. Throw him into the ocean? What kind of a father was he? "Roman, please," Hans begged. "You can't do this to me. I'm begging you."

The officer scoffed and pushed Hans forward aggressively. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this, Prince Hans." Roman spit out his title, just like his father had just spit on his entire existence. "It's about time you got what you deserved."

Hans raised a brow as he strained his neck to look over his shoulder at Roman. "What in the world does that mean?"

Roman chuckled, glaring into Hans's eyes. "It will be humbling for you, I think. Death." Hans paled at the word. "How do you think they felt, Hans?" Roman whispered hauntingly. "Do you think they felt what you were feeling now? Fear? Pain? Suffering? Do you think that they just wanted it to be over?"

Hans tried harder to rip his arms out of Roman's grip, the officer holding onto him tighter than ever. "Shut. Up." Hans demanded.

Roman laughed as he grabbed a handful of Hans's hair, causing the Prince to wince in pain as Roman pulled his back, forcing their eyes to meet. "You wanted them dead." He whispered. "And you'll be what you always should have been. Dead."

Hans gritted his teeth. He had always been nonexistent. He had always been dead, at least in the eyes of his father. The only thing that man cared about was power, and Hans had none of that. He could have just been a picture on the wall. It was something people looked at, but it wasn't useful. His other brothers had so much going for them. And what did Hans have? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Roman and Hans had pushed quickly through the halls of the castle, their arguing seeming to pass the time. Hans gulped as he saw the large, wooden boat that awaited him. A crew had already been assembled, getting the boat ready for departure. Hans tried one last time to rip away from Roman's grasp, but it failed, and even if it had been successful, he wasn't sure where he could have gone. Roman pushed Hans up onto the deck and smirked as Hans was put in the hands of another man, dressed head to toe in a white uniform lined with white, silver, and gold. His hair was chocolate brown, and his eyes were an emerald green. He looked like an angel to anyone else, but to Hans, this man was the devil incarnate.

"Welcome, Prince Hans." The man chuckled sinisterly. "To your death march."

Hans growled as the man took hold of his arms. He bared his teeth at Roman who gave the man a salute, and Hans looked to his holder. "Are you the captain?" He asked.

The man shook his head. "No. I'm your executioner."

Hans gulped as the captain pushed him into the arms of two others. They were burly and big. Hans had no chance of escaping their grasp, so he simply watched as the captain gave orders to his crew, directing them every which way until the boat finally began to set sail. It moved fast as if they wanted to get this over with just as badly as he did. Hans looked down at the wooden deck. The last time he had been on a boat, he'd been heading to Arendelle. The last time he'd been on a boat, he'd been planning to send two people to their deaths, and this time, this boat would be the death of him.

He couldn't help but smile softly. Karma had certainly caught up with him this time around, and god was he mad it even existed in the first place. His eyes shifted upwards to the sky. the ice blue sky and rage flared inside him. His teeth bared, as he could see the Queen of Arendelle's face in the clouds. He could see her smug face as he would be thrown overboard at any moment. He wanted to thrash and scream. He wanted off this damn boat!

Hans tried to move his arm even the slightest inch, and he immediately felt the shifting of the burly man behind him. One was beefy and his hair was a chestnut shade, and his eyes were hazel, ambiguous. This man was a mystery. His jaw was chiseled and hard. He was someone you didn't want to mess with, and Hans took note of that. He turned his head to the over his shoulder to see his other holder, and there couldn't be a bigger difference. The man's face was round, and his jaw... well, it was simply fat. The man was large and round, nothing intimidating about him other than his size, but his eyes. His eyes were an icy blue, and he forced himself to look away. He couldn't bear to see that color. Luckily, he would never have to see ice ever again after a few more hours, but he couldn't help but turn back to the man.

He opened his mouth to speak, but someone else spoke instead. "So, Hans." The prince looked forward to where the captain stood. "We're here."

Hans raised a brow, and he looked around. There was nothing but ocean. How had they gotten so far already? He didn't know where he was, and he cursed himself for not paying attention. The captain then chuckled. "You won't know where you are." He said, a man coming up from behind him, drawing a sword, and Hans's eyes went wide. "We'll make sure of it."

Both men gripped Hans tighter, feeling that he was about to resist, and he did. Hans thrashed around, kicked and screamed. He did everything he could, but it was no use. The grips of the two men were too strong for him. No. No this couldn't be happening. He couldn't be getting thrown overboard off his own ship. "You can't do this!" He shouted. "You can't do this to me! I am your prince!"

Hans continued screaming, trying to assert authority he no longer had. He saw the captain nod at the man holding the sword, and Hans went quiet. It was as if death ws coming closer to him, taunting him at a snail's pace. The man smirked as the sword's blade glimmered in the light. It was only when the man was inches in front o fhim did Hans let out one more final scream. "YOU'LL PAY!"

Pain ran through his head, and his eyes flashed a variety of colors until the only thing he could see was black. He felt arms wrap around him, lifting him up into the air, and he felt himself falling, and then he felt his back make contact with something wet, and then, he felt nothing.

/

Hans's eyes shot open, and he quickly sat up, coughing up all the water that had been forced down his throat. The sunlight was too powerful for him to keep his eyes open, so he relied on his hands. He moved them around, and he instantly recognized the material. He blinked more than a few times before his eyes finally got adjusted to the overpowering sunlight. Around him was sand. Ocean. And nothing else. He stood up, looking down at his arms legs that were covered in sand. He quickly dusted himself, looking around. Behind him, there was forest, and in front of him, there was ocean. There was only one way to go. He turned to face the trees that towered over him, taunting him, mocking him like his brothers had done all his life. He took limping steps into the depths of the trees, his heart pounding with anticipation and fear.

It was just as he'd expected. Nothing but green. Nothing but trees. He wandered for what felt like miles. His feet longed for rest. His throat yearned for water. Everything was in pain until he came across a clearing. A clearing that led to a cave. Curiosity overshadowed the pain, and he slowly moved towards the source of the voice. Into the cave he went, his only guide was the torches that lined the walls, barely lighting the way for him. The voice grew louder.

 _Aren't you a beautiful make._

He heard the voice say. It cackled, barely sounding human. Hans continued forward, his legs shaking with fear and exhaustion. The pounding of his heart intensified as he grew closer to an area that seemed well lit by flame. And each step he took, the voice grew clearer.

 _I make beauty._

 _I make fire._

 _I make all that you desire._

Hans stopped in his tracks when the walls of the cave came to an end, and he peeked around the corner but saw nothing. He took another, small step, and then his ears perked up at the cracking of wood. He looked down and saw the broken twig underneath his bare foot. When he looked up again, he made eye contact with a haggard old woman whos eyes were black like hell. And then, she smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no white in the woman's eyes. Only black from her iris to what should have been her whites. Her hair was tangled and silver and her face had too many wrinkles to count. Her clothes were ragged and torn apart. Holes littered every inch of the fabric. Hans didn't say a word as he looked at her, not daring to move.

"What a lovely make." The woman rasped as she took a step towards Hans who retreated at her advance.

Hans's legs shook as the creature approached him. All he could look into the two abysses of darkness on her face. He tried to look through them. He tried to see inside, but there was nothing but a nebulous fog. A mist of mystery that engulfed her. She reached her hand out, and Hans's foot fell out from underneath him, his underside crashing hard onto the ground of the cave. "Stay away from me." He hissed, frantically scooting away from the woman. "Stay away from me, you monster."

The woman continued forward slowly, without hesitation, and Hans closed his eyes. He could feel his body getting warmer as his heart pounded in his chest, and then, he felt something coarse and rough touch his forehead. He felt the swirling ash around him, and when he opened his eyes, the face of the wretched old woman was all he could see. her black orbs, and the feel of her finger against his forehead. He could feel every single wrinkle. Every single scar. Like sandpaper was rubbing against in pore in his skin.

"My my," She began, Hans cringed at her sulfuric smelling breath. "You're a complex one, aren't you?" The woman let her finger wander down to Hans's jaw. "Anger, regret, happiness, fear..."

She dragged her finger quickly across Hans's cheek. A stinging sensation took over him, and when he brought his hand to the source, red blotches stained the tips of his fingers. His eyes shifted to the woman who had red running down her nail. She put that very same nail into her mouth, her tongue seeming to savor every minute flavor in his blood. "And hatred..." She cackled. "So much hatred..."

She leaned closer to the former Prince, looking him over again. Her eyes still revealed nothing to Hans, and the ash blinded him from whatever he would have been able to see. "Most who come to me want only one thing." She mused, taking his chin in her hands and lifting it up to examine his neck. "I had one come to me for riches. I had a couple who came to me wanting safety."

She let go of Hans's chin, backing away as the curtain of ash was removed, allowing him to see the room, and the old woman clearly again. "You want so many things, could you ever pick one?"

Hans opened his mouth to answer her, but nothing came out. It was true. He wanted more than this woman could give him. Something told him that she couldn't give him anything even if he did ask for it. But there was one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world. His brows furrowed as he stared at the woman, and her lips twisted into a smirk. His eyes had given her the answer, while hers only gave him questions to be answered.

"Yes," She whispered, turning her back and walking over to a wooden shelf that she had lodged in between the walls of the cave. "I have the perfect make for you."

Hans breathed heavily as the woman turned away from him. The stinging on his cheek had gone numb thanks to his fear. His head began to spin, and the stones of the cave seemed to laugh at him, calling him weak, a failure, a traitor. He shook his head, clearing the voices away, but one remained, and it called to him from inside the cave.

 _This way._

It seemed to say, and he turned his attention to the walls of the cave, where flasks rested on pillars. Each one kept inside an illuminated liquid. He spotted one that held a phosphorescent green, then another illuminated with lavender. There was yellow, orange, a darker purple, and then there was one that caught his eye.

 _Here._

He stood and walked over to the flask that held a cyan liquid, but there was something different about this one. Cold emitted from the bottle, and he leaned closer towards it, squinting his eyes. As the light of the torches reflected off the bottle, what was inside shimmered, and Hans realized that what he thought was a liquid wasn't a liquid at all. It was solid, clear, and blue. It was unmistakable.

"That one intrigues you, boy?" The woman asked

Hans only stared at the bottle in front of him. His mind wandered to those times. To that creature. He then looked down the row of bottles, and he saw more than he'd seen from far away, each bottle held something inside. The dark purple almost appeared black. As if shadows had entered the very essence of the liquid. The green bottle had bits of rock scattered into it.

His gaze shifted to the woman who had her back to him. "Who-" He began, swallowing his fear with a gulp, "Who are you?"

The woman looked back at him, her black eyes showed nothing but annoyance. "I am the maker." She answered, turning her back to Hans once again.

He did one more glance around the area before rising to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. "The maker of what?"

The woman cackled her iconic cackle as she began to maneuver her hands in a mystical manner. "Power, boy." Hans's glanced at the woman, and then back to the bottles on the pillars again. Looking a second time, he realized there was only one empty pillar as the woman continued to speak. "I make many things for many people, but only the people who are willing to pay the price."

Hans raised a brow skeptically. How was he to know this woman wasn't just crazy? Demented? What he'd seen in Arendelle had to have been a fluke. It had to have been an act. What this woman said couldn't be true. "Make me a sword." He commanded.

This time, the woman turned her head. She gave Hans a once over before turning her head away. "No."

Hans chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. "I think it's because you can't do it, can you?" He taunted.

The woman growled as she turned towards him, lifting her hand slightly into the air. Metal materialized in her hands. First a tip, then a blade, and finally, a handle. A sword now rested in her fragile hand, and Hans's mouth went agape. "Here is your sword, boy." She tossed the metal to Hans, who caught it with ease.

He examined the blade with his fingers. It certainly felt real. He pushed the tip of his finger into the blade, and dribbles of blood came running down his finger. It was sharp enough to be real as well. Hans smirked as he quietly approached the woman, putting the blade on the woman's neck. "Get me out of here." He hissed. "And do it now."

The woman stared lifelessly ahead as the sword disintegrated in Hans's hand. "Whatever I make I can unmake, boy." She informed. "You do not frighten me, and if you wanted you could walk right out of this cave."

Hans stepped back at the display. It wasn't possible. Nothing like this should ever be possible. First, it was ice and snow, and now it was swords. And then, his eyes went wide. The image of Elsa and Anna entered his mind. He had a vision. A violent vision. "Could you make me powerful?" He widened with desire. and lust for revenge.

The woman's head turned once more, her eyes examining the former prince. "I could." She answered, smirking and chuckling to herself. "But you would not survive one day."

Hans growled at her words. "Do you know who I am?" He asked. "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. I am plenty capable of being powerful."

The woman shook her head as golden dust began to swirl around her, following the movement of her hands. "You are a former prince." She corrected, sending the golden dust into the scarlet cauldron. "And you are not capable." The cauldron exploded, and the woman lifted a finger. Out of the cauldron came a glass bottle sealed with a cork, containing a scarlet liquid inside. The woman set the potion onto the missing pillar and began maneuvering her hands in a mystical manner once more.

Hans raised a brow. "How did you know I was exiled?"

The woman cackled again. "I know many things, boy. Who you are is only a spec of my knowledge and power."

He smirked devilishly to himself. This was it. This was his moment. He could finally finish what he'd started. He could finally finish both of them off. He wouldn't leave Arendelle until he had both Elsa and Anna's heads."I'll ask you again," He began, taking a step towards the woman. "Could you make me powerful?"

"Yes." She repeated, "But I said you are not capable."

"I am!" He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. "I'll prove it. What do I have to do?"

The woman looked at him, and then her eyes glanced to the scarlet potion, and then she smirked. "You must survive." She said with a cackle. her hand wrapped around the scarlet potion that was steaming. "I make beauty. I make fire. I make all that you desire." She chanted as she held the potion out to Hans. "You may take my creation." She said, looking up at Hans, "But I will give you words of advice.", she leaned up and whispered in Hans's ear. "Resisting what I make will be your biggest mistake."

She shoved the potion into Hans's hands, and he yelped, letting the potion fall. The woman growled as she barely caught the bottle before it hit the ground, and glared at Hans. "You let it go." She hissed.

"It's on fire!" He yelled back, holding his now burned hand.

The woman hissed as she put the potion back onto the pillar. "I said you were not capable." She retorted. "And you resisted it."

She took the potion from the pillar and held it out for Hans again. "Do not resist." She looked into his eyes. "Do not resist and it will not hurt you."

Hans bit his lip as he looked from the potion to the woman's black eyes. he was putting his faith in the devil with this, but that couldn't be right. He'd already seen the devil in Arendelle. If this woman could give him the power he wanted, then she was an angel. A black angel. He took a breath and reached with his other hand out towards the bottle. He could feel the smoldering heat from more than a few inches away.

 _Don't be afraid._

 _Don't be afraid._

He grabbed the bottle, his eyes closed, and he yelped again. "Damn it!"

The woman cackled and put the bottle back on the pillar. "Like I said. You're not capable."

"Capable of what?" He stepped angrily up to the Maker. "What am I not capable of?"

The woman shook her head and cackled. "You're still resisting. You're still afraid."

Hans growled. "I am not afraid." He snarled at her.

"But you are, boy. You've always been afraid."

"No, I'm _not!"_

"Then prove it."

"I _will!"_

Hans stormed over to the pillar with the red potion, and without a care in the world, he threw his hand around the bottle, and this time, there was no cry of pain. He held the bottle up so she could see. "There." He barked.

The woman cackled and went back over to the cauldron. "Wonderful job, boy." She said. "Now leave me."

Hans raised a brow. "What?"

"You have what you came for." She said as she glanced at him. "I gave you the power you wanted. Now leave."

"I can't leave." He protested. "I don't know where I am, or what I'm going to do. I have no food, no water and-"

Hans felt a change in him. He looked down at his feet to find that they were good as new No scabs. No blisters. No blood. He reached a hand up to his hair that had somehow been cut and groomed to perfection. There wasn't a strand out of place, and more importantly, it was clean. He looked at the woman in shock. "You are in Northern Isles." She informed. "The outskirts, I should say." Her eyes scanned the prince over once again. "Now leave me. Through the forest is how you will get to civilization."

Hans looked at the potion, then to the Maker, and he silently made his way out of the cave. He found himself back in the dense forest, glad that the woman had cleaned him up. He walked for five minutes before he stopped, and looked at the potion in his hands. He was thirsty. The woman hadn't saved him completely. This potion was all he had, and he couldn't have anything. He took a deep breath and ripped the cork from the bottle, closing his eyes, and counting to three in his head. He tilted his head back and chugged the liquid.

His eyes opened wide immediately after the liquid hit his tongue, and after he swallowed one gulp, he spit the contents out onto the dirt-covered ground. It had tasted of spiced chalk and soot. Hans stood coughing for more than few moments. He should have known never to trust a stranger. Let alone an old woman on the edge of an island. He threw the glass down, smashing it into pieces. "Stupid witch." He hissed, and he continued on his way towards civilization. He swatted away the vines and branches that got in his way, earning multiple scratches along the way. But as time went on, his vision became limited, for the sun had almost completely set.

All he knew was that he couldn't stop where he was. He would have no idea where he was the next day, and he could feel himself getting closer to the village. Hours passed, and the sun had faded away, letting the moon shine high above, except, there was no moon out tonight. The light he'd been counting on was gone, and the eerie darkness around him was unnerving. He shook his head as he began walking. It was just another forest. There was nothing but trees.

Then, the leaves around him ruffled, and multiple voices echoed through the air. The voices laughed at him, and Hans stopped in his tracks. he turned his head every which way he could go, barely being able to see anything in the darkness. The trees looked like monsters, and the bushes looked like animals ready to pounce. The laughter grew closer, and then, out of the leaves, came a person. A tall man dressed in filthy rags. His face was black from the darkness, but Hans could make out paint, that he assumed was dirt.

"What are you doing out here late at night?" The man asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Hans scoffed as he walked towards the man. "Staying away from filth like you."

Hans only got a few inches past the man before he felt a grip on his arm. And then the man was whispering into his ear. "And who are you to be calling us filth?" He asked. "From the looks of it, I'd say you're just as filthy as the rest of us."

The man quickly let go of Hans's arm, and Hans smirked. "Don't touch me, peasant."

The man laughed hard. The animals in the surrounding area flew away at the terrifying sound. "So, you think you're royalty?" The man asked. The leaves ruffled again, and out of the shadows came more of them. Hans could make out five in total. "Well, we have ways of dealing with Royalty."

Hans clenched his fist, and then the man stepped forward once again, this time, with something in his hands. All he could see was his reflection in whatever it was. In a second, his reflection was gone, and he felt a stinging pain across his arm. he stepped back, bringing a hand to the source of the pain, and immediately felt something wet dripping down his arm. These people were armed, whoever they were, and Hans wasn't armed with anything but the disgusting taste of the potion from earlier in the day.

He turned and ran as fast as he could, away from the voices that continued to follow him through the night. He prayed that his feet stayed sure in the darkness. He felt air blow by his ear, and that same wet feeling of blood went down his cheek. He looked over his shoulder and saw where the projectile had come from. A bow. An arrow. His heart pounded as fast as his feet ran, and then he couldn't hear his feet running anymore. He felt his face hit the ground, and dirt and other things suffocated him.

The voices continued to laugh, and soon, there were arms around him, flipping him over and keeping him pinned on the ground. "Let go of me!" Hans yelled as he began to kick, and struggle out of their grip.

One of the members holding his arms down spoke. it was a woman's voice. "Boss, hurry it up! He's burning!"

The man from before leaned closer to Hans who could now see his features clearly. He was dark of skin, and his hair was long, going down to his waist. His teeth were a filthy yellow, almost brown, and his breath smelled like rotten fish. Hans saw his reflection once again, and he could see his blood dripping from the blade. "So long, your Highness." He said in a mocking tone. Hans closed his eyes, ready to feel the blade sinking into his skin. But instead what he heard was a voice. A slithering, snake-like voice.

 _Let me out._

It said, and Hans's eyes opened wide.

 _Let me out and I can help you._

"Who are you?" Hans asked.

The man chuckled as he brought the blade to Hans's neck, but all Hans heard was the voice inside his head.

 _I am all that you desire._

Hans felt his stomach growing hotter by the second. His hands felt like they would burn off at any second, and the woman holding his arm down yelled in pain. "Boss, it hurts!"

 _Let me help you._

Hans saw the man lift the blade over his head. He was ready to strike. It was now or never.

"Help me!" He yelled.

Hans closed his eyes as the blade came down. He was ready to feel the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life, but instead he heard screams, and they were not his own. He opened his eyes, and the five bandits were all on the ground, screaming, and covered in flames. His eyes went wide in horror as he looked at their charred bodies, and then, he looked around.

Fire.

Fire was everywhere. The five bandits hadn't been his only victim, but the trees and leaves had as well. The fire spread quickly from one tree to another, and soon, Hans was being chased by the inferno, the fire close behind him. He ran with all the speed his legs could muster, but even still, the fire stayed on his tail and closed the gap a few inches between them. Hans's heart pounded as he prayed to be sure of foot. This was the one time he wasn't allowed to be the clumsy Prince he normally was. He couldn't afford to trip and fall on the brink of death. He wouldn't let himself.

He ran through the exhaustion and fatigue, and eventually, made his way out of the forest. He fell to his knees, panting for his life. He looked at the trees, charred and burned. The whole forest had been engulfed by the flames. Flames he had created. Flames he didn't know he made. He looked at his hands that were shaking uncontrollably. His heart pounded with fear. That was all he felt in that moment. Fear and dread.

"What are you?" He asked as he looked at his hands. "What did you do?"

He heard the voice laughing, and then it responded.

 _I helped you like I said I would._

Hans opened his mouth to speak, but more voices interrupted him.

"Over here!"

Hans scrambled to find cover, but it was no use. He, no, whatever was inside him destroyed all the cover he had. He looked around frantically as footsteps and voices grew closer. What could he do? What could he do?

 _Think, Hans!_

He scolded himself, trying to find a way, any way out of the mess he'd made. He wished he could do it again. Start the fire. Take out the fire.

"You there!"

Hans gulped as he turned his head sharply. There stood a group of men, spears in hand. Hans could make out the sangria and gold color of their uniforms. Guards from Northern Isles. "Hands up!" One of the guards yelled, stepping forward.

 _I can help you._

Hans bit his lip as he heard the taunting of the voice in his head.

 _Let me help you._

"No." Hans hissed. "You helped enough already."

The Northern Isles's coat of arms was on the man's chest. The captain of the guard. This was their late night patrol. Hans just so happened to be the main focus of it. The guards closed in on him, pushing him to the ground, causing Hans to grunt in pain. He struggled against all of their grips, and the captain of the guard smirked as he shined the light of his lantern on Hans's face. "Well, well, well." He smirked. "Look at who we have here."

/

Hans had been dragged into town. He hung his head low in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to go and hide back in the burning forest. He wanted to go back to the Maker's cave. Ask her what had happened. What voice was in his head. What power did he have? What power did _it_ have? Instead, he was being paraded through the streets like a trophy. The spires of the castle were visible from where they were, passing multiple carts and inns along the way.

Oh, how he yearned for the silk of the pillow that had been on his ship. He had time to reflect on what had happened. The exile. The storm. The maker. The fire. Everything he'd once thought would never happen to him happened in a single day. He'd never thought he'd burn down an entire forest, but then again, he'd never thought that anyone could cause an eternal winter either. Ever since that day, he'd accepted magic's existence, but that didn't mean he wasn't terrified of it. The guards trudged him to the castle gates, that creaked open at the captain's command. The footsteps of the guards echoed as they walked through the wooden halls on yet again another death march. The double doors that led to the throne room became visible. Hans took a deep breath when the doors opened, and the throne was revealed. A large man sat in the chair, his hair short and chocolate brown. His eyes were a beautiful, welcoming shade of amber, and Hans smiled at him.

"What's this?" The figure asked, looking at his captain.

"King Roland," The captain announced. "This man was found late at night by the forest. He was the only one there."

Roland raised a brow skeptically. "He is the one who burned the forest down?"

The captain nodded. "That is what we think happened."

The King sighed. "Innocent until proven guilty. For now, this man is not a prisoner," Roland said, waving a hand dismissively. "Leave him. And leave us." Hans was grateful when the guards released him. His knees hit the ground, but he quickly got up as the man on the throne rose from his seat, stepping down from the dais and walking over to Hans. "I haven't seen you since you were seven years old, Hans."

The former prince smiled. The man in front of him was someone who Hans would never forget. "It's been a long time, uncle."


	3. Chapter 3

_"_ _That's not good enough, Hans." Charles barked, pointing at the multitude of Arrows that were nowhere near the target._

 _Hans stood in the grass at the mark, his bow hanging low to the ground like his head. He knew it wasn't good enough, and all of his brothers were all shooting perfect arrows beside him. He looked up at Jehan who was right next to him dressed in a suit of pure white and lined with gold, and a scarlet cravat tied around his neck. Hans beamed as he saw him shoot an arrow down the range. As the oldest, Jehan had more practice under his belt than all his brothers, and as heir to the throne, he was expected to outshine the rest, and outshine them he did, in more ways than one. He smirked with pride when he heard the popping sound of the arrow against the target, and then, he looked at Hans._

 _"Having trouble, brother?" He asked as he knocked another arrow._

 _Hans nodded as he hung his head again. Jehan gave what Hans perceived as a sincere look of empathy. "Don't feel bad." He encouraged as he pointed another arrow at the target. "No one else could be worse than you, Hans."_

 _Jehan released the arrow from the string, and it went flying down the range again. Jehan smirked as the arrow hit the bullseye again. "Excellent, Jehan!" Charles shouted._

 _Hans looked at the target in front of him, then down at the bow in his hands. The praise his father always shouted at Jehan did anything was what he wanted. he wanted to feel that pride. That joy that Jehan always got to feel. Hans looked at the target with a determined look and knocked an arrow on a bow that was far too big for him. He tried his hardest to pull the string back, but his small body wasn't strong enough to do so. Hans closed his eyes. This one was going to hit the target. He knew it. He released the arrow, picturing it flying through the air._

 _And then, he heard Jehan's uncontrollable laughter. Hans opened his eyes and saw where the arrow had landed. Only two feet in front of him, barely making it down the range. Hans looked angrily up at Jehan who wiped his eyes. "I told you no one could be worse than you!"_

 _Hans looked down, feeling his eyes welling with tears as he heard Jehan's laughter continue, as well as his fathers._

 _"Shut it, Jehan."_

 _Jehan's laughter ceased, and Charles's did as well. Roland came striding along down the range, his sangria cape that complimented his mulberry suit dragging in the grass, and his golden crown shimmering on top of his head. His hands behind his back which was as straight as a board. He pushed Jehan aside with his shoulder and went over to Hans. "Don't worry about them." He whispered kindly. "They're just jealous that you get this and they don't."_

 _Roland brought his hands out from behind his back and presented Hans with a new bow, a smaller bow that was perfect for his size. Hans's eyes went wide at the display, and when he looked at Jehan, he had his arms crossed and was looking down at his perfect set of arrows. Hans looked back at Roland, smiling widely at his uncle. "I know you can do it, Hans," Roland whispered. "You just need the right tools." He motioned to the target. "Go on. Try it."_

 _Hans nodded eagerly and turned to face the target again. Jehan watched out of the corner of his eye, already snickering slightly. Hans knocked the arrow, the new bow already feeling better in his hands. His form was impeccable as they'd taught him, but he felt stronger, more powerful. He pulled the string back, and his eyes went wide. He could pull it all the way back. Jehan's eyes went wide at the display, and then, he shook his head. Hans took a breath as he lined up his shot._

 _"Shoot, Hans." Roland urged._

 _And he did. Hans released the arrow, and it went flying forward. Jehan's mouth went agape as he watched the arrow fly down the range. Hans still had his eyes closed, but he heard the popping sound that had become all too familiar to him. The arrow had hit the target. It had finally hit the target, but where? That was the question he wanted to be answered. He was about to open his eyes until Jehan spoke._

 _"Impossible." He hissed._

 _It was then Hans opened his eyes, and there was the arrow. on the target, perfectly centered. He'd hit a bullseye. He jumped up and down screaming with joy and pride. Jehan rolled his eyes and went to retrieve his arrows along with his other brothers. Hans jumped onto Roland, beaming. "Did you see that uncle Roland? Did you see? I hit the bullseye!"_

 _Roland laughed as he tossed Hans up into the air multiple times. "I did, Hans! I knew you could do it!" Roland caught him and looked little Hans in the eyes. "You can do anything if you have the right tools."_

 _He set Hans down on the ground, and the boy looked at Charles. "Father did you see?!" He pointed at the target._

 _Charles clapped for him with a slight smile. "Wonderful, Hans. Now, go get that arrow and shoot some more."_

 _Hans nodded as he ran to the target and pulled his arrow out of the target. Jehan stood at his target right next to Hans. "Did you see_ that _Jehan?" Hans asked as he stuck out his tongue._

 _Jehan chuckled as he nodded. "Oh, I saw it alright." He smirked, bunching his arrows together in one hand. "I saw a boy get lucky." Hans's smile faded into a flat line, and he clenched his fists as he walked back to his bow where Jehan had already knocked an arrow. "Anyone can get lucky, Hans." Jehan fired the arrow down the range, and Hans watched as the tip pierced the middle of the target again. He looked back at Roland who was standing beside his father. His uncle gave him a smile, and Hans nodded. He knocked his arrow, and set up his shot, trying to replicate everything he had done the time before. He fired the arrow down the range again, and Jehan's eyes went even wider._

 _Hans had hit the bullseye again, and he stuck his tongue out at his older brother who simply rolled his eyes as he shot another arrow. Hans looked back at Roland, and they both grinned at each other._

 _/_

Hans remembered that time vividly. The way Roland helped him through the times where his brothers put him down. He was grateful to have someone like that. Someone who stuck by him even when everyone else looked down on him as if he wasn't worth their time. Roland had taught him look up at them. To look them in the eye and say he wasn't afraid. That he could do anything if he just had the right tools to do it. That his brothers weren't any better than he was. He now sat across from his uncle at a small table, covered by silk lined with sangria and gold. He was dressed in a suit lined with those same colors. A white jacket, sangria vest and cravat, and fitted white pants engraved with laurel patterns. They were clothes he'd once worn when he was a prince. They were clothes he never thought he'd wear again. His uncle was engulfed by a suit of mahogany, with gold, laurel patterns enhancing the suits luxury. His long cape hosted the crest of Northern Isles, a shield, and inside was an N written in the fanciest script Hans had ever seen. Roland stuffed his face with what looked like steak. He couldn't tell since Roland had practically devoured the whole thing, and Hans had chicken in front of him. Another delicacy that he never expected to have again, and he hadn't even touched it. He picked up his fork and knife for the first time of the meal and dug the prongs, cutting into the crispy skin of the meat. He brought a small slice up to his mouth, but was denied the scrumptious taste for a moment longer.

"Well, Hans," Roland began, "I heard you had quite the mishap in Arendelle."

Hans kept silent and bit the inside of his cheek instead of the chicken at the mention of it. Jehan would sometimes come down to his cell and taunt him with the situation. He had to give his brother credit. Jehan did know how to get to his soft spots. Roland did as well, probably more than Jehan.

Roland leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of wine that was in a transparent glass. Hans's fingers curled in. "So, is that why you're here?" He asked with a raised brow, reading Hans's features. "I know your family is bad, Hans, but you wouldn't just come here without a reason."

Hans leaned back in his chair, mimicking Roland's posture as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're too good, uncle."

Roland waved a hand in dismissal, setting the wine glass back down on the table. "But I did hear you came close, even if you failed." The king leaned his elbows on the table, coming closer to Hans. The atmosphere suddenly took on a different tone, but Hans couldn't place exactly what he was feeling. He leaned in towards his uncle, silence being the only voice until Roland continued in a whisper voice. "What was she like?" He asked curiously. "The Queen?"

Hans furrowed his brows. He could feel the sword in his hand again. He could see Elsa on her knees, sobbing. Weak. Vulnerable. The picture of him sitting on the throne had shattered into hundreds of fragments right in front of him. Just like this sword had. "She was..." He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling that had been painted that sangria color, and then back to his uncle.

"She was...?" Roland urged him to continue.

Hans leaned back in his chair, contemplating his answer. As far as he knew, his uncle had never been interested in foreign affairs concerning any country other than the Southern Isles. He'd never been one for war or diplomacy for that matter. Hans's father was better suited for it even though Roland was the older one. "She was what you'd expect her to be." He replied.

Roland raised both brows. "So, was she a monster?"

There was that word again.

 _Monster._

Months ago, Hans would have used that same word to describe the queen. He would have bound her name to it if he could have, but now? He couldn't agree nor disagree. He was in her shoes now, and the guilt he felt couldn't be weighed. Hans now raised his brows, crossing his arms as a small chuckle escaped his lips. "Excuse me?"

Roland laughed. "Hans, that woman is terrifying. She's a beast. She can control ice and snow for heaven's sake. How can she not be a monster?"

Hans tried to keep his face clear of all emotion, but deep down, he was angry. Hans understood now. He understood how Elsa felt. The fear. The burden that power gave was too heavy for him to carry. Even his uncle would think him a beast if he were to ever reveal it to him. He only wondered how she managed to handle it all by herself.

 _Show him._

Hans almost jolted as he heard the voice in his head.

 _Let me out._

 _"_ Hans?" Roland raised a brew at his nephew.

The former prince shook his head, telling the voice no, and he smiled slightly at his uncle. "You can believe what you want, uncle."

Roland shook his head. "I want to know what you think, Hans."

That was the first time he'd heard those words from someone's mouth. The first time someone had actually wanted his opinion other than Arendelle where the people there depended on him for a day. This was different. This was genuine. The look his uncle gave him was everything he'd wanted from his father early in his life. He'd wanted conversations like this. Bonding time like this. Hans looked his uncle in the eyes, not afraid as he spoke. "No." He answered. "She was not a monster."

Roland furrowed his brows. "I don't understand."

Hans raised a brow as his uncle spoke. "You wanted my opinion, uncle. Did you not?"

Roland shook his head, the look in his eyes fading to disappointment. "Hans, she set off winter in the summer." He hissed. "She can create life with the flick of her wrist, and you say she's not a monster?"

"Because she's not!" Hans yelled.

"Then what is she?!" Roland shouted back, rising from his chair.

Hans locked his fingers together as he looked down at the food, still untouched on his plate. "I..." Hans's thoughts failed him. He didn't have an answer.

"You don't know." Roland finished his sentence for him, and turned quickly on his heels, his cape trailing behind him.

 _Show him._

The voice urged him again. Hans shook his head as he watched his uncle head towards the door. Elsa couldn't be a monster. Not when her accusers didn't give her the chance to prove them wrong. The fear in her eyes in the dungeon. The sadness. The guilt. Hans raised his chin again, rising from his chair as he saw Roland put his hand on the handle. "You don't know either, uncle."

Roland froze and turned his head to look at Hans. His eyes said the former prince was a madman, and there was no mistaking the disappointment in his eyes. "Get your head on straight, boy." And the door slammed shut behind him.

Hans heard his uncle's footsteps grow farther and farther away, and Hans was left there in the single room, the uneaten food still in front of him. He sat back down and placed his head in his hands. Things always had to be so difficult. They always had to be against him. Why, for once, could things not just be with him? Why was he incompetent? Why could he not make them see that they were wrong? Why would no one listen to him? He raised his chin again, examining the mulberry walls of the room, and his eyes caught a chess board on the other side of the space. In a few strides, he was standing above the chess board, picking up the white king from the board, and he closed his eyes.

/

 _All thirteen brothers were gathered in the large living room, and each one was paired with another with a chess board in the middle except Hans, who stood beside his father at the front of the room._

 _"You all know the rules." Charles began, "If you lose, you are done for the rest of the tournament If you win, you're that much closer to getting one week off chores."_

 _Snickers among the twelve brothers were heard, and Charles shook his head. "Children..." He muttered. "Begin."_

 _And then, there was silence. Hans picked up on the breathing of his brothers and the moving of the pieces on all the boards. He'd been watching his brothers play for years, and he memorized the game because of it. He spotted Jehan sitting across from another boy. He was small and his muscles were nonexistent, unlike Jehan who was balanced from head to toe. The boy had on a pair of glasses and a book in his lap. In between moves, he'd read the pages. The title read 'The History of Northern Isles'. Hans practically cringed at how fast he would fall asleep. It was only a few moves later that Hans saw Jehan smirking, and his older brother made one more move, and the boy across from Jehan groaned._

 _"Every single time!" The boy complained, drawing attention from all eleven of his brothers who were still playing._

 _Jehan chuckled as he began to reset the board. "Better luck next time, Lulu."_

 _Hans looked back at Charles who spoke. "Lelouche has been eliminated. Continue on."_

 _Jehan rested his hand on his cheek while Lelouche continued reading, but Hans was busy examining their board. He silently walked over to the two of them, standing over the board so he could have a better view._

 _"What are you doing?" Jehan asked, locking eyes with Hans._

 _Hans smiled innocently. "Can I play?"_

 _He heard a laugh come from the other side of the table. His head turned sharply, and he saw another one of his brothers looking at him. "Are you begging to be humiliated, Hans?"_

 _Jehan nodded before Hans had a chance to speak. "Yes, Roger. He is." Jehan looked up at Hans. "Fine, little brother. Play with me, but don't go crying when you lose."_

 _Lelouch chuckled as he got up, offering Hans his seat. The youngest sat down, running a hand through his short red hair. Jehan smirked as he flipped the board around, giving Hans the white pieces. "I know how you like to go second, Hans," Jehan started, "But white is for... the weaker player. Therefore, you go first."_

 _Hans bit his lip, containing himself from the laughter that came from his brothers. When he looked over at Charles, he was laughing as well. He couldn't let it get to him. Jehan was just trying to get in his head. "Fine." He took a breath and moved his first pawn forward two spaces. "Just make your move."_

 _Jehan chuckled as he and Hans began to play. Hans had shut the world out, and the only thing in front of him was the chess board and the moves in his head. He was thinking as many moves ahead as he could, coming up with new strategies on the fly. For the first few moves, He let Jehan play. His playing style was becoming apparent. He wanted to render Hans useless, so he would use just that to his advantage._

 _Jehan continued to press Hans's pieces back, but by doing so, he left his king wide open. By the time he knew it, all of his brothers had already finished their games, and they, including Charles, came over to watch Hans and Jehan finish their game. He heard the muffled noises of his brothers giving Jehan pointers. No one bothered to help him, and that was fine. Hans didn't need the help. He couldn't help but smile when Jehan made his move, causing a ripple of confused looks around the room._

 _"What?" Jehan asked, crossing his arms. "There's nothing funny here, little brother. The way I see it, you're about to lose."_

 _Hans smiled as he looked at the board again. He didn't respond. All he did was move his queen. The piece lined up with Jehan's king, and his brother's mouths went agape. He looked around the room to see even his father stunned. Jehan's reaction was the most priceless of all. He had gone pale, and his hand had curled into a fist. His king was being attacked by Hans's queen, but anywhere he could move it was cut off by one of Hans's pieces. He'd led Jehan right to where he'd wanted him._

 _"Checkmate." The small prince smirked._

 _Jehan growled as gossip among the brothers began. They spoke of Jehan's foolishness, and that was when Hans heard his father._

 _"Disgrace.."_

 _Hans looked at Jehan who was boiling with rage. He had his fists clenched, and finally, the elastic that had he.d him down for a good amount of time snapped, and Jehan shot up out of his chair. He raised a hand high above his head, and Hans looked down, bracing himself for the impact, but all he heard was the scattering of pieces. He opened his eyes, and the board was broken down the middle. Pieces had fallen all over the floor, and some had flown to the other side of the room. Hans looked up at his brother, who was becoming more and more of a profligate each day. "You won't win next time, little brother." Jehan hissed, leaning as close as he could to Hans's face._

 _Hans had chills from head to toe, and he gripped the arm of his chair tightly as Jehan continued in a whisper. "If you ever embarrass me again, I will destroy you." Hans gulped. "I will make your life more of a living hell than it already is."_

 _Jehan stormed off, slamming the door to the room shut behind him. His brothers followed suit, and his father was the only one who remained. Hans remained in his chair, looking down at the broken board. He looked at Charles who peered at him with emotion that Hans couldn't place. The king eventually turned his back to Hans and opened the door, one foot already out before he spoke. "The next time you play against Jehan, you will lose."_

 _The door closed slowly, and Hans was alone, his only company the broken pieces of the board and the crackling of the fire behind him. He sank to his knees, picking up the white king from its spot on the ground. Its cross had been broken. It was useless. He stood up, bringing the piece over to the fire. The constant crackling seemed to speak with him._

You're not alone.

 _It would say, and Hans would continue the dialogue in his head. How could he be so useless? Why was it him who had to degrade himself to make others looked better? The crackling of the fire spoke with him again._

Let go.

 _Hans looked down at the broken piece, and then at the fire, and with a smile, he threw the piece into the flames._

/

Hans slammed his fist downward, smashing the board into two. The pieces flew across the room, some hitting the wall. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling on the auburn red in frustration. He had once again been degraded. Cast aside.

 _Why?_

Hans stumbled backward as the voice spoke inside his head.

 _Why do you resist me?_

"Why do you keep going into my head?" He retorted, moving to the bed where he sat down, wanting nothing more than silence.

 _Because I can help you, Hans._

 _"_ Help me by killing people?"

 _I gave you power._

Hans bit his lip, running a hand through his hair.

 _Do you not want it?_

He pictured Jehan, the one who'd always ridiculed him cowering and calling him king. "I do." He whispered.

 _Then why do you resist me?_

The voice asked the question again, and it was something Hans couldn't answer. He couldn't understand why he didn't let the monster in. Why he didn't embrace it and let it help him. Hans opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He sighed as he stood, walking out of the room and down the hall. His uncle had told him to get his head on straight, and for the moment, it was. He didn't think about the beast inside him. He chose not to pay it any mind, even as he heard the voice ask him questions. It begged Hans to let it out. To embrace it. Hans would never embrace such a thing. Not when it meant he would become like the one he despised the most.

He looked down at his hands, clenching his jaw. Was this what Elsa felt like? Afraid? Afraid to let loose? Afraid that everything would escape. He could see the turquoise gloves on her slender fingers. The fear in her eyes as she took them off and held the orb and scepter. The way they shook as her nerves took over. Her breath of relief when she had truly been anointed. He never thought he'd see the day when he could empathize with her or know the pain she went through. He'd thought they were opposites. He thought they couldn't have been any farther apart, but in truth, they had never been more the same.

 _Are you afraid?_

The voice interrupted Hans's thoughts again, and he shook his head. "Shut up." He hissed at himself to the empty hallway.

Hans distracted himself with the decor of the castle. The walls were that unmistakable sangria, the halls were lined with too many doors to count. Vases filled with lavenders and orchids littered the palace, and empty suits of armor were placed scarcely throughout the palace. Pictures of former monarchs seemed to continue for miles down the hall until there was one picture bigger than the rest at the end. It was a picture of Roland, dressed in gold and deep purple, holding a sword as he rode a steed into battle. He stood, admiring the picture. His uncle had always been a great general. he understood the needs of his soldiers and the needs of his people. It was something Hans wished he could have. He wished he could have the trust back that he'd lost. The respect that he'd come so close to gaining had been flushed down the drain. He continued on his path, eventually exiting the castle, and out into the courtyard. The last time he'd been in an area this beautiful was at Elsa's coronation.

The mere thought of being back there made his blood boil.

Hans turned his head to the sound of grunting and the clashing of metal, and he smirked. He would know the sound of knights anywhere. He was pulled towards the sound, desiring a distraction. Something to take his mind off of whatever was inside of him. The voice's words replayed in his mind constantly. Why did he resist if whatever it was could give him what he wanted? Why would he resist what could give him revenge? Relief washed over him as the sounds of grunting and clashing metal came closer, and soon, he saw more than thirty knights all paired with one another, sparring.

Each one wore armor that covered every inch of their body. Some who dressed more sloppily than others had the signature sangria of Northern Isles visible from underneath the metal. He turned his head to see Roland with his arms crossed, overseeing the whole event. He was yelling critiques and criticism as Hans walked over to his side. They stood there for a few moments, no words exchanged only awkward body language. Hans ran a hand through his hair, debating on whether to speak first, but Rolan decided for him.

"Do you have your head on straight?" The king asked, turning to his nephew.

Hans locked eyes with his uncle who's ocean blue orbs showed a hint of concern, but there was something else inside as well. "Yes, uncle." He replied, turning towards the knights.

He straightened his back. He hadn't had to use proper posture in months.

"That's enough!" Roland spoke.

Instantly, the clashing of swords ceased. The knights all rearranged themselves into a single, perfect line, straight across the large field of grass and dirt that served as their training ground. Roland took a step forward. "You are all done for the day." He scanned the line of knights with his eyes. "Dismissed."

One knight took a step forward. On his right arm was a red bandana, some symbol of status Hans supposed. The knight spoke, his words muffled by his helmet. "On behalf of all the knights, your highness, I have one question." He lifted his arm with his sword in hand, pointing directly at Hans. "Why is _he_ here?"

Roland looked form Hans to the knight, his powerful posture never diminishing. "This is my nephew." He answered.

"But your nephew is a traitor." The knight retorted. He sheathed his sword and removed his helmet, revealing short, angelic blonde hair and angry baby blue eyes. "He is a disgrace to your entire line, yet you choose to bring him here?"

Roland scowled, and the knight took a small step back. "Keep yourself in line, Maximus." Roland hissed.

The knight sneered at Hans, taking a step back in line with the other knights. "Disgrace.."

Hans couldn't count how many times he'd heard that word, but he did know that he never wanted to hear that word from anyone again. Hans sped forward, and Rolan failed to keep him in check as he swung a fist across the knight's face, connecting directly with his jaw. The other knights drew their swords, points pointed at the former prince who bared his teeth at the boy now on the ground. "I dare you to say that to me again." He hissed.

The knight got to his feet, stepping towards Hans while knights held him by his arms, attempting to keep him in check. "I'll say it as many times as I'd like. You're a disgrace!"

"ENOUGH!"

All heads turned to Roland who stepped in between Maximus and Hans. "Watch your tongue, Maximus. And you," He turned to Hans with so much anger Hans felt like cowering. "Just because you are my nephew does not mean you are exempt from respect. I thought your time in the dungeons would help you learn that."

Hans felt a stinging in his cheek, and he brought a hand to the source of the pain, he looked up at Rolan who held his hand up. He'd just slapped Hans. The other knights released Maximus, and Hans locked eyes with the knight.

"Dismissed," Roland emphasized.

The Knights headed off, but Maximus stopped beside Hans. "Me and you. Tonight. Here." He placed a hand on Hans's shoulder. "Be ready to bleed." He pushed Hans aside as he continued walking. Hans smirked. He would have a distraction after all.

/

The sun had set much slower than Hans had anticipated. The duel with Maximus had been on his mind all day. He'd been sentenced to his room by Roland after his outburst, but now he'd finally get the chance to let out all of his frustrations. He'd finally get the chance to prove Maximus wrong. To prove all of them wrong. He moved the curtains of his room aside, smirking as he saw the moon high up in the sky. He opened the window, feeling the breeze. It was cool. Perfect fighting weather. He smirked as he closed the window, and went to his door. He took a breath as he put his hand on the handle, about to push the door open.

 _You are going through with it?_

Hans had gotten used to the voice by now. He was no longer stumbling or surprised when it interrupted him. "Who are you?" He asked, staring at the golden knob.

 _I am all that you desire._

"That isn't what I mean?" Hans said quietly, hearing footsteps outside his door. _"Who_ are you?"

 _I am you._

Hans shook his head. This conversation with himself, as ridiculous as it sounded, would have to wait for another time. He opened his door just a crack, peeking his head out and looking side to side. The coast was clear, and he snuck quietly out into the halls. The sangria looked royal blue in the moonlight, and his white suit would be easy to spot in the dark. He maneuvered his way furtively down the halls until he found his way to the courtyard. he walked the familiar path he'd walked during the day, and eventually found the field, and standing in the middle was Maximus. There was no more heavy armor, only a sangria tunic and fitted black pants. His sword held close to his body, and another on the ground in front of him.

"You came?" The knight asked smirking. "I thought that you wouldn't have the gall to come here."

Hans smirked. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to put you in your place."

Maximus laughed. "You can't speak to me about place." He hissed, pointing the tip of his blade down to the sword. "Pick it up."

Hans confidently walked over to the blade. He bent down, reaching out his hand until he felt a stinging in his shoulder. He grimaced as he clutched the blade, looking to see red dripping onto his suit. He looked at Maximus who held up his blade, showing the blood he'd just taken from Hans.

"How honorable." Hans muttered.

Maximus growled as he ran towards Hans, his sword raised high. He brought the blade down hard toward Hans who sidestepped, taking this chance to try for a strike of his own. He slashed upwards, scraping Maximus's back. The knight let out a grunt as he turned to face Hans again, his sword at the ready. He shuffled closer to Hans, and lunged forward, poking at Hans's stomach. Hans blocked the strike with the outside of his blade. Maximus smirked as he closed the gap between them, throwing a punch that connected with Hans's nose. The former prince stepped backward, yelping in pain as red started dripping down. Maximus cackled as he came forward again, striking at Hans's side, leaving a deep gash. Hans yelled again, sinking to his knees as he clutched his wound.

"That is where you belong," Maximus spoke, coming up from behind Hans and placing his foot on the former prince's back. "Down in the dirt." He put pressure on his heel, pushing Hans's face into the ground.

 _Let me out._

Hans's eyes widened as the voice spoke.

 _I can help you._

Hans felt cool metal on the side of his neck. His eyes moved to see Maximus's blade. "You'll take your dishonor to your grave, weakling." The knight taunted, pressing his sword a slight bit harder into Hans's skin.

Anger overtook Hans. Another word he never wanted to hear again. He closed his eyes and released all the anger that had been pent up inside him for years. "I AM NOT WEAK!"

The voice cackled inside Hans's head, and that was when he heard the scream. Hand heard crackling and snapping, but of what? He had no idea.

 _Open your eyes._

Hans did, and he'd never wanted to close them again so badly. It was the scene in the forest all over again. The entire field was in flames that reached twenty feet high, and Maximus laid with his face buried in the dirt, screaming in agony. Hans slowly rose from his position on the ground and took in the whole scene, terror on his face.

"What did you do?!" Hans yelled, his eyes wide with fear. This couldn't be happening again. He didn't even know what was happening.

 _I didn't do a thing._

Yelling voices were heard over the crackling of the flames. Hans frantically looked around for somewhere to go. Somewhere to hide, but it was no use. The knights had arrived, three tending to Maximus who was still yelling in agony, and then came Roland through the flames, his eyes wide in astonishment and terror, and his eyes met Hans, who stood unfazed through all the flames.

Hans had never seen a more horrified look on his uncle's face in all his life. The king had gone pale even in the orange flames. he'd looked like a ghost walking through hell. Knights drew their swords, quickly closing in on Hans and surrounding him. He felt his knees buckle from underneath him, and two powerful arms forced him to the ground. All he could hear was his uncle's scream. "MONSTER!"

/

 **I know this came a day early but I have finals next week, so this weekend will be spent studying so I wanted to post it when I could. Enjoy the chapter and I'd love to hear what you think of the story in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so here's the full chapter. I'm so sorry about my inactivity as of late. Things have just been really busy. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please tell me what you liked or didn't like in a review. I want to make the story as enjoyable for you as possible :)**

* * *

Another dark room. Another pair of shackles constricting Hans's wrists. He was in a dungeon cell. Another dungeon cell. Hans was getting sick of them. Would a cell in Arendelle be next? Hans would have laughed if he didn't think it was a possibility. He ran a hand through his auburn hair that had gotten tangled and dirty yet again, and the pristine white and sangria suit Roland had let him keep quickly turned brown from the dirt and mold surrounding him.

The rage inside him only grew. Again. He was in a cell again. He could barely see the outline of his hands in the darkness. The hands that had caused so much destruction. They held so much power, and he couldn't control that power at all. He curled his hands into tight balls in frustration and hung his head to look at the stone ground. How long would he be in here for? How long would it take for Roland to decide what to do with him?

He sighed and lifted his head, squinting to try and see the iron door that confined him to the cell. He closed his eyes, replaying the events in his head. The thugs who'd gotten killed. Maximus who he most likely would never see again. He internally scolded himself.

Never again.

Never again would he let it go unchecked. Never again would he listen to that wretched voice inside his head.

"He's in here, your Highness."

Hans's ears perked up at the voice, and the echo of footsteps he should have been able to hear from miles away. The jingling of keys could be heard outside his cell, and the iron door creaked, letting light in for the first time in days The light pierced his sensitive eyes, and in the doorway stood a silhouette. Broad shouldered and large. It could be no one else but Roland.

"Thank you, Captain." The king said, only staring at Hans, not bothering to acknowledge the guard. "I'll take it from here."

The guard nodded and left with a quick bow of his head, and Hans was left to stare at his uncle, a black blob against a wall of light. Roland came closer, step by step. The sound of his footsteps was deafening, and his uncle soon peered down at him. Hans could only bring himself to look down in shame. He had nothing to say to his uncle. There was nothing he _could_ say. He felt a warm finger underneath his chin, and Hans's eyes were brought upwards to meet his uncle's.

"Fool." Roland let Hans's chin fall from his finger. Hans could feel the fire inside him screaming to be let loose. Screaming to sear his uncle as he had seared Maximus. Roland knelt down on one knee, bringing himself to Hans's eye-level, but they were nowhere near equals. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" The King gazed into Hans's eyes, looking for an answer Hans would never give. "Did you think you could go through my Kingdom and have me not know what you were?"

Hans bit his lip, his brows furrowing in anger. Roland shook his head as he looked at his nephew. "This was why." He hooked a finger under Hans's chin once more, forcing the former prince to meet his eyes. "This is why you protected her." Roland's finger was warm and seemed to burn hotter with every second. Hans reassured himself it was only his nerves. That it was only because he was sweating in fear. "Because you're just like her."

Hans ripped his face away from his uncle's grip. He remembered Anna doing the same thing. He'd never felt so much empathy for the redhead in his life. He was helpless. Weak. He was nothing compared to the man in front of him. Better in every way. Burning brighter in glory than Hans ever would. "I'm not like her." Hans snarled at his uncle. "I'm _nothing_ like her."

Hans suddenly felt his head get shoved violently in another direction. A stinging sensation numbed his cheek as his eyes were now focused on the ground. He shifted his gaze back to his uncle who had a hand raised. Roland had just slapped him. "You're exactly like her." The king brought his hand to his side as he stared at his nephew. "You're a monster."

Hans's heart panged in his chest and a lump formed in his throat. He found it hard to speak. Hard to breathe. "I thought..." He stammered, "I thought you were different." He leered at his uncle, his lip trembling. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to do anything but look into his Uncle's eyes. "I thought you loved me."

Hans waited for something. A word. A sign.

Roland simply gave Hans a smirk. "Then you're a fool, Hans."

Hans felt his eyes begin to sting, and water began to slide down his cheeks as Roland stared at him, unfazed and sure of his words.

"Who could ever love a monster?" The King stood, bringing his hands behind his back as his body moved towards the iron door. "I'll be back for you in the morning, nephew." Rolan turned on his heels to face Hans from outside the cell. "Bright and early."

The iron door slammed shut, and Hans could have sworn the screaming of the metal was Roland laughing in triumph. The former prince hung his head again, wiping his eyes that had been wet with tears. His uncle had just seen him cry. His uncle had just seen him weak.

He let out a primal scream, his own ears hurting from the pitch echoing through the cell. He couldn't be here again. He couldn't be stuck, confined, weak.

"NO!" He slammed his fists into the ground repeatedly, ignoring the pain as he let out all his frustrations. The months he'd spent in the dungeons of his own castle, his failure in Arendelle. His arms soon grew tired, and his screaming subsided. His hands had gone numb, he could have sworn he saw blood through the darkness. "No..." His voice broke as he looked at the ground, staring into the black abyss.

His whole life at that moment seemed to be one large science experiment. Every way he tried to gain power failed. He'd tried Arendelle, and that had gotten him thrown in a cell. He'd tried that old woman's potion, and where had that gotten him? Put in another dungeon cell.

A humming noise sent Hans jerking, his head turning sharply to the door. When the humming continued, he simply shrugged it off. it was probably a guard who was horrid at his job. It was also a guard who had a less than average singing voice.

Hans went back to his thoughts, trying to think of a way to escape. There was nothing to save him this time. His powers could do nothing, and he would only see the light of day when Roland wanted him to. He sighed and looked at his hand again, and the voice spoke.

 _I can help you, Hans._

"I don't want your help." He hissed, shuddering at the voice, but he shook his head, displaying no outward signs of fear. "I want light." He said in a hushed tone, paranoid that someone would hear him. The voice hummed recognition inside Hans, and a small flame appeared in his hands.

That was when it struck him. The voice had done what he wanted. All he'd had to do was ask. He sat in thought for a moment before lifting his head, and he saw hair, silver hair and wrinkles, and eyes as black as the cell itself, and he heard only the gentle, haunting humming that was coming from the woman.

Hans opened his mouth, about to let a scream loose before a hand was placed over his lips. His skin as sensitive to every scratch and crease, and the Maker smiled at him. "Well, boy." She cackled quietly. "Look where you are again."

Hans's brow furrowed at her angrily. He was not in a position where he wanted to be mocked. The woman removed her hand from his mouth, on her knees in front of him. "Why are you here?" Hans held the flame towards the woman as if to threaten her.

"I'm here to save your sorry ass." She grinned, placing her hand on Hans's arm, urging him to put the fire away. Hans hadn't asked, and the fire was out in a second as if it was obeying its true master.

Hans felt cloth rub against his cheek. It was tattered and torn, and he knew it was the woman's robes. Blue light suddenly could be seen on the wall, and Hans looked behind him, and the bricks that kept him trapped in the cell were moving on their own. One by one until a large gap was made, leading to the dark night outside.

He gulped as he looked back at the woman who was leering at him. "I can't have one of my children trapped in this hellhole." Her black eyes, showing concern looked at Hans. "You will run away." She stated. "Far, far away. Across the ocean, if you have to."

Her finger touched the chains on Hans's wrist, and they broke instantly. The immediate release sent Hans into a high. He rubbed his wrists, smiling gratefully as he looked at his now free arms. He peered at the old woman who motioned to the entrance, and Hans smiled as he crawled out of the enclosed space, and into the vastness of the night.

He stood and stretched his arms, multiple joints cracking in response to his freedom. He stretched his arms, and then his leg, all while looking at the woman who had reached into the inside of her worn out robes. "This cannot happen again, boy." She scolded. "I will not come to save you next time. I only did so because Ravian called for me."

Hans stopped what he was doing and raised a brow. He knew she was insane, but he didn't know things had gotten this bad in that brain of hers. "Ravian?" He blinked a few times as he looked at her. "Who is Ravian?"

The woman shook her head, and Hans suddenly began to glow red. The aura seeped outward into a liquid and onto the ground where it began to rise and take shape. A human shape, and eventually, a man, about the same height as Hans was standing across from him.

His hair was jet black, and he wore an aristocratic-looking crimson suit with black whorls and golden epaulets. His undershirt was black, and his pants were the same crimson color. His eyes were red, and his jaw was chiseled as if Michelangelo had sculpted it himself. "That would be me."

The man answered with a soothing, yet intimidating voice. His whole appearance, regal and poised, reminded him of Jehan. Although the hair was obviously different. Hans acted unimpressed, but in reality, he couldn't have been more astounded. "I'm Ravian."

"Ravian is the spirit of fire." The Maker said, motioning to Ravian who now held a small flame on his finger. The flame flickered regally in his palm, dancing the waltz in the night.

"I'm also her eldest child." He gloated, lifting his chin in pride.

The Maker rolled her eyes and shook her head. "As of now, he is my eldest creation."

Hans took a small step back. "Eldest creation?" He questioned. "You mean, there's more... things like him?"

The woman scowled, then looking at Ravian with a look that said: 'I'm so sorry for you'. Ravian shrugged, and the old woman spoke again. "I have made many like him. Earth, ice, shadow, light. I have made more power than you can imagine, Hans. He is here to help you."

The feeling of Hans's heart pounding in his chest was all too familiar. It seemed every day there was something new this woman revealed to him. "And I'm here to help you." Ravian looked at the former prince, his red eyes gazing into Hans's green ones. "Who said I wanted your help?"

Ravian rolled his eyes. "If I can remember right, you did." The spirit rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

Hans clenched his jaw, placing his hands on his hips. This was going to be pleasant. He just knew it.

"Enough." The Maker looked to Hans. "You will go far away." She ordered. "Where you cannot get yourself, or my child in any danger." The woman proceeded to pull out a small vial, holding a luminous green liquid inside.

Hans, on instinct, recoiled. The last time he'd drank a potion it turned him into a walking inferno. "Drink it," Ravian said, taking the potion from the woman and handing it to Hans. "It will take you where you want to go. All you have to do is think." The woman crossed her arms as Hans peered at the vial in his hands.

He looked at the open hole at the top, and then looked up at the sky to the moon. It was a beautiful blue in the darkness. An ice blue, and Hans closed his eyes and drank the potion. His entire being felt lighter than a feather, and he could have sworn he felt himself collapse.

/

The feel of a foot in his side made Hans's eyes shoot open. He groggily looked upwards, the night was still dark beside Ravian's glowing red eyes that were staring into his own. "Up." The man said, prodding Hans's side with the point of his foot once more. His bare foot. For all his dressing up, the man couldn't even wear shoes. Hans sat up from his prostrate position, his face covered with dirt, and his clothes were just as dirty. At least Roland let him keep the suit when he was sent to the dungeon.

Around them were grass and trees. They were on a hill up high, and when he looked around, he saw nothing but more trees.

"My my." Ravian shook his head as he helped Hans to his feet. "You are filthy." He snickered.

Hans glared at him. "Don't talk to me."

Ravian placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know, Hans, we're going to be living together for quite some time. I think you should learn to enjoy my company."

Hans shrugged Ravian's hand off of his shoulder. "Any company is better than yours."

"I beg to differ." Ravian crossed his arms as he glanced at the former prince. "I don't assume you'd want to be with any of your brothers right now." Hans peered at him, his eyes narrowing. "Particularly Jehan. Your thoughts say quite a lot about him."

Hans had to interject. "What do you mean 'my thoughts'?" He questioned.

Ravian gave a shrug. "That's where I am." He said matter-of-factly. "I'm not just in your body, Hans. I would burn you to a crisp if I was. There has to be something to contain me. Your mind is that exact containment."

Hans turned his head away from the man, although he was a devil in disguise. "Where are we?" Hans asked, forcing himself to look at Ravian.

The man's lips curled into a smirk. "I don't know, Hans." He chuckled, his face turning forward as he stopped in his tracks. "Where are we?"

Hans opened his mouth to speak but stopped as he saw where Ravian was looking. He then turned his head, and his eyes went wide.

 _No._

In the distance, large tall pillars made of stone were visible. Poles that held banners flew high and surrounded the fortress-like structure also made of stone. One tall spire went up to the sky, and Hans couldn't move. There was one crest of green and purple, and in the middle, and gold crocus.

 _No._

"So? Ravian inquired, his tone already implying he knew. "Where are we?"

Hans couldn't believe it. he couldn't be standing there. he could be here again.

He couldn't be in Arendelle.

/

They began their trek through the woods, step after step, and exhaustion flooded Hans's feet with each passing second. He'd barely gotten time to sit down and relax. Even in his uncle's company, rest was minimal. Hans looked at the man beside him, impeccable and clean.

Ravian's eyes shined crimson in the moonlight, giving them a mysterious gleam. It was unsettling to think that man had just come out of his body, and that he was everpresent in his mind as well. The silence of the night rang out loudly, and Hans couldn't take it, so he opened his mouth to speak.

"So," The former prince began, looking forward to avoid Ravian's eyes. "There are more of you?" He still couldn't believe such a thing. In his mind, one was more than enough.

Ravian chuckled as he played with a small flame in his hands, forcing it each and every way he wished as it danced in the night. "Of course there are more of us." He replied, looking at Hans. "You saw the potions she had. Each one contains a spirit."

Hans looked at him, still trying to comprehend it all. "And are they all like you?" He inquired. "Do you all just come out of people's bodies and lurk within our minds?"

Ravian laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, but some are more subdued, others more present." Hans peered curiously, and Ravian, noticing his confusion, the spirit continued. "I speak to you." He explained. "Some of us don't like to talk to our hosts." The flame in his finger died out, leaving only the night in its place. "And I can leave your body and appear like this." He motioned to his body, as he looked at Hans.

"Some are tethered to the life force of the host, and if they do leave it drains the host of energy, leaving them weak and fragile. Sometimes even on the verge of death." His eyes glanced to Hans. "Some of us are put there by choice by the host, as was the case with you. You wanted me there, but some, however, have their spirits forced into them. There are many cases, Hans. You are just one of many."

"And am I your only host?" Hans asked the spirit. "Have you had anyone else besides me?"

Ravian shook his head. "We are created individually for one host. I have not personally had anyone else, but I did have a brother who had two."

Hans rolled his eyes. "You're not serious. If you're created individually how could you have a brother?"

"Metaphorically, dimwit." He looked at the former prince, his eyes angry and defensive. "I had a bond with him I never had with anyone else in my life."

Hans looked to the ground and eventually brought his eyes back to Ravian. "What was your brother like?" He asked curiously.

Ravian looked up at the sky, his eyes showing solemness and sorrow. "His name was Corin. He was a quiet one." He began. "He didn't like noise all that much, but he was strong. He had the hottest flame out of every fire spirit our mother created." He sighed, his lips curling into a nostalgic smile. "He had a host that had a brother. The one he'd been assigned to originally was power hungry, greedy, wanted power. He didn't mesh well. The brother seemed more kind-hearted, a man of the people, and so my brother left."

"He left his original host?" He asked. "I'm assuming he wasn't tethered."

Ravian nodded, a grin on his face. "Very good." He said. "The first host wasn't too happy about his leaving, but His second host proved a better fit, and the two became close. They depended on each other. My brother depended on him for conversation, and the host depended on him for power, and the two became tethered."

Hans raised a brow. "You can do that?" He asked. "Be tethered without already being able to?"

Ravian made a noise that signified yes. "You can. There are those who are born with the ability to tether, but the bond can be decided by the host and the spirit." Ravian looked at him. "I could be tethered to you right now if you like. If you want me poking through all your thoughts. I would never leave your side." He said. "I would grant you power. I would be at your every command. I would be all that you desired."

Hans bit his lip as Ravian spoke. Having the power he possessed was tempting, but it was too soon. A decision like this was big. Too big. If Ravian were tethered to him, the spirit would never be able to leave. His thoughts would continue to be invaded. "I'll think about it." Was his answer.

Ravian nodded and continued walking, his arms crossed over his chest. "So, what about you, Hans?"

The prince looked at the spirit, raising a brow. "I thought you knew all about me."

Ravian shook his head. "I only know what you put at the forefront of your mind." He corrected. "Since your brothers seem to be there so often I know all about them, but I don't know about _you_."

Hans looked down at the ground, stepping over a root that would have tripped him if he didn't look. "There isn't anything to know."

Ravian laughed and shook his head. "That is the biggest lie I've ever heard."

Hans rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what you want to know."

Ravian shrugged. "Alright," He mused, beginning to ponder. "Tell me about Arendelle." He said, glancing at the castle that grew closer and closer with each step. "Tell me about the queen."

Hans scoffed and looked up at the sky. "That witch." He muttered.

The next thing he knew, Ravian was in front of him, a flame in his hand and ready to burn Hans to a crisp like he said he could. Fear overtook Hans as he looked at the spirit, his fists clenched, not that he would be able to hurt the spirit anyway. "That is not an insult." He hissed. "My mother is a witch, and she is far more powerful than you will ever be." His red eyes added to the intimidation. "Never call someone a witch." He added. "Because it just makes you look like one instead."

Hans nodded vigorously as Ravian's flame was snuffed out. The man put on a sweet smile as he continued walking. Hans's heart beat louder in his chest. Ravian looked like a composed, normal noble, but he acted like something entirely different.

Hans quickly caught up to the spirit, unsure of what to say, so he simply said nothing. He now had time to think. He had time to try and comprehend everything. The magic. His uncle. Arendelle.

"I know it's a lot." Ravian snapped him out of his thoughts, and Hans glared at the spirit.

"So, you can hear my thoughts even when you aren't in my mind?" He asked.

Ravian nodded. "I'm attached to you, Hans." He said with a sigh. "Whether you like it or not."

Hans cringed as voices could be heard from far away. The sun was slowly beginning to rise, and even though it was still dark, Arendelle was right on the water. It was a trade kingdom, and people had to get up early to prepare their carts and shops for those who came early in the morning.

The former prince felt Ravian's eyes on him, and he heard the spirit speak. "So, " He began, "You were going to tell me about the queen."

Hans looked at the spirit, biting his lip. He could paint her from memory. The platinum blonde hair. The ice blue eyes. The turquoise dress that fitted her figure. He soon heard Ravian laughing, and he turned angrily towards the red-eyed man. "What?" He hissed.

Ravian quickly cleared his throat, standing up straighter. "Nothing." He shrugged. "Absolutely nothing."

Hans muttered curses under his breath. His memories brought him back to Arendelle. Back to the ball. Elsa standing on the dais next to Anna, both of them looking stunning. Her eyes shining like the golden crown in her hair. Her regal, composed posture. Almost too straight at the time for a reason he finally understood.

He couldn't help but smile softly as he replied. "She's everything you'd expect her to be." He said, repeating his answer he'd said to Roland a day ago.

Ravian raised a brow, "So, she's beautiful?"

Hans blinked and stopped in his tracks again, looking at Ravian with a raised brow and cheeks that were taking on a crimson hue. "What?"

Their environment was filled with Ravian's laughter as the spirit tapped his temple. "Did you already forget? I know what you're thinking." He reminded the prince who looked down at the ground, trying to hide his embarrassment. "The way you're describing her, she seems like the most beautiful woman in the land. Regal, composed, smart. Unlike you. She sounds perfect."

Hans stared at the spirit for a few seconds before continuing to walk towards the voices of the market. The castle had grown close, and the sun had begun to rise. "We should find an inn."

Ravian shook his head. "No, we should get you a cloak." He smirked. "Lucky for you, that is what I, your humble spirit, is here for." Ravian lifted his hand, waving it gracefully in the air as flames began to surround Hans. The flames condensed into a crimson fabric, and Hans was soon wearing an expensive-looking cloak lined with gold and silver, and his white suit that had once been brown from dirt and mold, was now pristine and white as snow.

"And your hair. Shameful. You have to take better care of yourself." Ravian waved his hand again, sending more flames towards Hans. This time, the dirt was wiped out, and his hair had somehow been combed. He truly looked like a prince. Hans looked at Ravian who bowed, and Hans could only stare in awe. "You're welcome." The spirit grinned. "Now, shall we?"

Ravian motioned to the market that was now visible, and the castle which seemed to tower over Hans in a way it hadn't before. Fear sank in, and even with his sharp appearance, he felt uncomfortable. "Don't worry," Ravian reassured him. Hans began to glow red once more, and Ravian dissipated into flames and disappeared, climbing back into Hans's mind.

 _I'll be here._

Hans nodded and flipped the hood of the cloak over his head, hiding his features from view. He walked into the market as shops and carts began to open up. Fruits and vegetables of all sorts were on display, as well as jewelry which would sell for more than a decent amount of money. It was so lively. So warm. Hans took a calming breath as the market began to crowd.

"Let's find an inn." He muttered to himself.

He felt Ravian nod in agreement inside his mind, and he began to scan the market with his eyes, careful not to draw too much attention to himself.

"Excuse me, young man!" Hans turned his head to see a merchant waving his hand. He was a short man and slightly large around the belly. He wore a cap that shielded his eyes from the sun, and a blue vest and pants. He seemed welcoming and warm. All of Arendelle seemed to feel this way. it was quite the difference from Southern and Northern Isles. Hans walked over to the cart as the man held out a fresh peach. "Care for a taste?"

Hans examined the peach, nodding as he accepted the fruit. He took a bite, it's flavor rich and fresh. He smiled at the man who beamed back. "It's delicious," Hans told him. "Thank you."

The man waved a hand dismissively. "Thank you." He smiled as Hans turned to walk away. "Take care, young man. Maybe come back and pay for some next time."

Hans couldn't help but laugh softly as he walked away from the man. He'd gone to take another bite of the peach, but when he looked down at the fruit, it was steaming. Hans growled softly, and Ravian laughed in his thoughts.

"I was hungry, you know."

Hans muttered.

 _Well, so was I._

The spirit's retort was enough to shut Hans's mouth as he continued to look around for anything resembling an inn, or a place to rest for the time being. His eyes lit up when he saw a sign: The Modest Tower Inn and Tavern. Hans sighed as he made his way towards the colonial style building built of dark wood and carved with crocus patterns. The pattern of Arendelle's crest. He cringed at the very sight of the crest, but his heart stopped when he heard a voice.

"Elsa! Here!"

Adrenaline coursed through him. He didn't dare turn towards the sound of the voice. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks and sweat began to form on his forehead. No. Not now. Any time but now. He took one glance over his shoulder, and there they were. There was Anna in a dress with a turquoise skirt with daisies and floral patterns in a variety of colors along the hem. A navy blue corset with more floral patterns fit snugly around her waist, making her skinnier. He thought he didn't need the corset. Her auburn hair was pulled up into the same updo she'd had on Elsa's coronation. Her undershirt was yellow. All in all, she looked like a ball of sunshine, and it made Hans sick.

He felt the bile rise in his throat the longer he glanced at her. His eyes shifted to the woman next to her, and his heart pounded faster as he took Elsa in with his eyes. Her dress was emerald green and floor length. On the bottom was a slit, and the dress seemed to glimmer in the sunshine. It was made of ice. He'd never seen green ice before. Etched into the dress were purple flowers. She was summer incarnate.

A beautiful combination of poise and fun. Regal yet jocular.

She and Anna were simply looking around the market. For what, he didn't know.

 _You were walking away?_

Hans gulped and nodded at Ravian's thought and headed into the Modest Tower. Inside, it was dimly lit. There were barely any lights beside one chandelier on top and a candle by a desk he assumed was where he checked in. At the desk was a woman. Her eyes hazel and brimming with suspicion, which wasn't a good sign.

He strode over to the dark wood and opened his mouth to speak. "Just one room, please."

She stared at the prince for more than a moment. He diverted his emerald eyes away from the woman's hazel ones. She looked down, a pencil in he hand as she began to write. "For how many nights?"

Hans bit his lip.

 _One_

"Two," Hans answered.

The woman nodded. "And what is your name?"

Hans bit his lip. He hadn't thought of anything yet. "My name is-"

A bell echoed through the place, interrupting Hans. All he saw was the woman's face light up. "Your Majesties." And she bowed.

Hans's heart began to pound rhythmically again to a death march. Steady, strong, and it wouldn't stop. He turned his head and saw the two women, rage and dread filling him. "Your Majesties.."

 _Bow, idiot!_

Hans quickly dropped his head low, cursing silently. He hated bowing to a witch, but if that was how he would keep himself safe, he had to.

Elsa stepped up to the desk, two feet from Hans as she smiled at the woman. "Hannah," She said, reaching for the woman's hand who gratefully accepted the queen's. "I've heard about the staff shortage." She said, looking into the woman's eyes with a smile. "My advisers have gathered quite the group. You'll be back in business in no time at all."

The woman beamed at the queen, pure happiness in her eyes. "Thank you so much, your Majesty. I am forever in your debt." The woman bowed again as her eyes diverted back to Hans. "That will be thirty bronze coins, sir."

Both Elsa and Anna turned in Hans's direction, and the former prince could do nothing but stare. He didn't have any money.

"I..." He began, patting down his person for something, and Ravian had gone quiet. "I don't have any money."

His eyes shifted up to the woman who opened her mouth to speak.

"That's okay." Anna stepped forward, smiling. "I do." She placed a handful of coins in front of the woman. All in gold.

Hans's eyes went wide, but Hannah's went wider. "Your Majesty..." She began, "I can't accept this I-"

"Just take it." Anna interrupted, smiling at the woman, then at Hans who gulped.

He couldn't believe it. He imagined everything he could have done with that much money. There were so many things, and she'd thrown it all away...

To help _him._ "Thank you, your Highness." He bowed his head slightly, catching Anna wave her hand dismissively in his peripheral vision.

"It's no problem, really." The redhead managed. "I can spare more than a few coins."

Elsa smiled at her sister, and Anna beamed back at her. Hans looked back at Hannah who was smiling as well. She reached into a drawer behind the desk, pulling out a key that she put for Hans to take. "You'll be in room thirty-nine." She said, "And I still don't have a name."

"My name is Corin." He said, taking the key with the number thirty-nine etched into the key. Hans nodded and took the metal in his hand, the presence of the queen and princess too much for him to bear as he looked at the two of them once more. He nodded and bowed his head once more to the royals, and began to walk away before he felt a hand tap his shoulder.

He took a breath as he turned his head slowly, only enough to see Anna out of the corner of his eye. Her touch felt like sandpaper against his skin. "If I'm allowed to ask," The redhead began with a bubbly voice and a sweet smile. " _Where_ did you get that cloak?" Hans heaved a breath of relief as a small smile crept onto his lips. She hadn't changed. "Isn't it beautiful, Elsa? I think I want one!"

The queen shook her head slightly and took a step towards Anna. "I'll admit it is lovely." She admitted, her voice smooth and tranquil. "However, it looks quite foreign." She gazed at the fabric with curiosity, eventually looking at Hans. "Where did you get it?"

Hans found himself unable to speak again. He felt Ravian's nudge inside of him which was enough to make him talk. "I made it." He lied. "I have a shop that is the staple for expensive fabric in my kingdom."

Elsa smiled and Anna was already giddy with excitement. "And what kingdom is that?" The queen asked.

Hans bit his lip and replied. "The Southern Isles."

The expressions of the two girls visibly changed. Memories already triggered by what he had done to the both of them. Elsa's eyes narrowed in anger, while Anna's simply became solemn. "Well, I'm not involved with that kingdom as of late," Elsa began, "But I'm interested." Her smile returned with teeth as white as snow. "We're holding a ball for the summer." She stated. "We would love it if you attended."

Hans's eyes went wide as fear sank into his chest once more, and he pointed to his chest. "Me?" He shook his head, heat flooding his cheeks. "Your Highness, I'm flattered but-"

"I insist." Elsa took a step towards Hans who diverted his eyes away from her own. "Please. We'd enjoy the company."

Both the girls smiled and Hans took a breath and nodded. "Very well, I'll attend."

Anna jumped up and down enthusiasm spewing out of her. "And it's a masquerade ball!"

Hans raised a brow, and he could feel Ravian's intrigue from the inside of him, the only sign of his existence throughout the whole interaction. "It sounds exciting." He said, letting his lips curl into a small smile. "If you're sending out invitations, you know where to find me" He joked, holding up the key to his room. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Majesties. I look forward to seeing you soon."

Both girls nodded as Hans gave one more slight bow and walked off, scanning the room numbers in the dimly lit chestnut hallway before finding his own. Room thirty-nine. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. There was one king sized bed and one window that looked out to the sea. Hans noticed the familiar red aura, and Ravian appeared to him out of flame, his arms crossed. "I knew you were idiotic." The spirit said flatly, "But I didn't know you were just stupid."

Hans sat down at the foot of the bed and rolled his eyes. "It's a masquerade ball." He looked up his eyes met Ravian's. "They won't see my face, and I can't just say no. She's the queen! And you didn't necessarily help, I might add."

The pirit rolled his eyes. "She is hunting you! I can't believe I got stuck with an idiot like you." He grumbled, sinking to the ground in a cross-legged stance.

Hans rested his cheek in the palm of his hand, not wanting to say anything, but he watched as the spirit backed away and opened the door to their room, causing Hans to raise a brow. "Where are you going?" He asked, sitting up to watch the spirit.

Ravian shrugged. "None of your business." He said with a mischievous look in his red eyes. "Don't get into trouble." The spirit smirked as he left through the open door, leaving Hans to sit alone in the room. The bed itself wasn't comfortable, but it was much better than the ground and dungeon cell he'd been slept on for months on end. The white ceiling was the color of Elsa's hair.

He couldn't believe he'd been two feet away from her. From Anna. From the people, he'd tried to kill. They'd been nice to him, although they hadn't known it was him. He imagined if they had, the entire interaction would have gone differently. Hans sighed and tucked himself under the covers, laying his head down on the pillow as sleep quickly overtook him.

/

 _Dressed in white and lined with gold and red from head to toe, Hans had his hair combed and trimmed to perfection as he stood on the dais in the ballroom. His father sat in the throne, and his brothers stood at the sides of the King. Charlemagne sat with his back straight, and a smile plastered on his face. The room was crowded with people from far and wide. Royalty from all over the empire had come. The summer ball in the Southern Isles was always a big event. It was a tropical island and had plenty of things to do. Hans also felt his father threw the best parties. it was simply a talent of Charles's. He knew how to keep people, mainly himself, entertained._

 _His father stood from his throne, his arms open wide as he went to the edge of the dais, Hans the only one in his family smiled. His brothers were all stiff and straight-backed. Jehan seemed like a statue, not one ounce of happiness in him. "Welcome!" Charles boomed, his voice filling the entire ballroom. "Welcome to the annual summer ball." He said, his smile turning somewhat genuine. "I hope you all enjoy yourself this year, and without further ado, let summer begin!"_

 _His brothers immediately went off the dais, walking to wherever they pleased and beginning to converse with their guests. Alcoholic beverages made their way through the ballroom quickly, and tables of food lined the back of the ballroom for anyone who was hungry. Hans scanned the room with his eyes, seeing where in the world he could go. He caught the eyes of his Uncle, Roland dressed in the sangria of Northern Isles, wrapped in velvet fabric. Hans wondered how he wasn't dying of heat. His brothers were easy to pick out in the crowd. Most of their hair red and their suites white. They stuck out of the crowd, where Hans never would. He had to work to get to where he wanted to go, pushing through person after person just to get to the other side of the room where Roland stood, his arms open wide for Hans. "Hello, little one." Roland smiled wide, picking Hans up into his arms. Roland's skin as always warm. He was a stuffed animal Hans loved to snuggle with. "Are you enjoying yourself?"_

 _Hans mindlessly shook his head. "It's too loud." The little boy admitted, covering his ears to emphasize his point._

 _Roland shook his head, smiling. "Well, I saw Melody sneak off." Hans's eyes lit up at the name. He nodded and Roland set the boy's feet down on the ground, and he scurried off furtively, careful so no one would see him._

 _With quick feet, Hans was out of the ballroom. The tall ceiling felt ominous and haunting, as all the servants were bustling in the ballroom, making sure the guests were all taken care of. Hans scoured the halls in search of the girl. In search of Melody. Their families had known each other for years. She was a few years older than him, but that didn't do a thing for his infatuation with her. She was beautiful. She was kind. She was perfect._

 _He stopped his wandering, listening for anything that might give him a sign, and then he heard it. The most beautiful music he'd ever heard. He followed the source of it, eventually leading him to an open room. A ballroom that wasn't being used for the ball tonight, but inside was a grand piano, and sitting on the bench was none other than Melody herself. Her brown hair went down to her ribs was curled to perfection, not one strand was out of place._

 _Her dress was lavender and it went down to her ankles. it was plain, yet beautiful. So simple like the song she was playing. It was a simple melody with not much backing on the lower end, but Hans was mesmerized by it anyway. It was nly because it was her. The light coming through from the windows made her skin look tan. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He stepped quietly through the ballroom, trying hard not to make a sound until Melody hit the final chord on the piano, and Hans smiled._

 _"That was beautiful." The boy complimented, placing his hands behind his back with a dorky grin on his face._

 _Melody looked back, surprise adorning her face, but then a smile replaced it. "I'm glad you think so, Hans." She giggled softly. Hans stared at her with dreamy eyes. It was only when he got a closer look at her did he see she was wearing a golden necklace. Engraved into it was a half sun half moon symbol, implying her kingdom of Sylvia._

 _"Are you enjoying the party?" Hans asked politely, and Melody nodded._

 _"I am. I just wanted to take a break from the noise." She said running a hand over the piano's wood. "And practice before my lesson tomorrow."_

 _Hans took a step closer to her. "Well, I could help you if you want." He offered, placing his hand on the piano next to hers. "I actually learned the song you were playing a while ago." He casually sat down next to her. "Could you play it again for me?"_

 _Melody smiled and nodded as she began playing the song again, only for Hans to immediately stop her. "Curl your hands in more." He said, gently touching her hands with his own. He ignored the tingling and chill that came along with the contact. "Like this, but relax."_

 _Melody nodded and continued playing the song, Hans helping her when he could. He watched her face more than he watched her hands. He only stopped her when there was something blatantly wrong. Each second, she got better, and Hans's smile couldn't have been more wide by the end. "It sounds great!" He said enthusiastically, looking into Melody's eyes. Melody readjusted her hair, a smile on her face as well as she looked at Hans, placing her hands on her lap._

 _"You're an amazing teacher, Hans." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Hans felt the familiar tingle and chill again. "Maybe I'll come to the Southern Isles for lessons instead." Hans grinned and simply nodded as his cheeks went red from embarrassment._

 _"I-I'd love that." He ran a hand through his own hair as well, sighing dreamily as he looked at her. Melody shook her head and chuckled before another voice rang out in the room._

 _"Well, well, well." Hans bit his lip and looked over his shoulder. Jehan leaned against the wall, looking particularly better than usual. His red hair was combed and slicked back, and his suit fit his figure too well. His white suit, lined with gold, and red just like Hans's seemed to shine in the window's light as if he'd taken Hans's light away with his very presence. "Hi, Melody." Jehna's tone turned slightly seductive._

 _Melody giggled as she stood up form the piano bench, striding over to Jehan with a skip in her step. The two hugged, and Jehan went so far as to kiss Melody's cheek. Hans raised a brow, his heart sinking in his chest. "What's going on?" He asked, standing up and clenching his fist as he looked at his older brother._

 _Jehan simply shook his head and brought his arm around Melody's waist. "This is my betrothed, little brother." He said, looking dreamily at Melody who 's cheeks went red. "We're to be married when the time comes." He said, a smirk plastered on his face._

 _Hans's anger was about to erupt. He wanted to slap Jehan more than he'd ever wanted to do anything else. "You go on ahead, Mel," Jehan said, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. Melody nodded, pecking Jehan's lips quickly before she left. Hans's older brother stood there. Frozen as he touched his lips. That was his first._

 _Hans stood and watched, fuming as warm tears began to fall down his cheeks. "You take everything from me.." The little boy hissed. "You take everything that's mine. You take everything I love!"_

 _Jehan chuckled and strolled over to Hans who'd hung his head to look at the ground. Hans felt Jehan's cold fingers slip under his chin, forcing them to meet eyes. "Oh, Hans..." His brother chuckled as his amber eyes gazed into Hans's. "If only there was someone out there who loved you."_

 _With that, Jehan left the ballroom, leaving Hans alone with the piano and a broken heart._

 _/_

Elsa hadn't been able to fall asleep for the longest time. Ever since the great thaw she'd been having trouble, for reasons most understood. Almost every day she replayed the events in her head. Her coronation. The thirteen years in solitude. Thirteen years of nothing but cold.

Her room, although spacious, had always seemed to constrict. It always felt lonely after her separation from Anna. For some reason, the two had remained apart, although Elsa wanted nothing more than to move back with her sister. If anything for her own sake.

The night had come quickly, and she had stopped keeping track of the hour whiles ago. Preparations for the masquerade ball had been relentless. Every minute of Elsa's day was spent on something concerning the festival. She was glad to have the night.

It was the one time of day where she could relax. Where she could think, but her mind was too crowded to think of anything at the moment. She shifted in the velvet chair she sat in. It used to be her father's and the scratches on the arms of the chair always made her smile. She empathized with his frustration but sighed none the less.

She stood, her ice blue dress trailing behind her as she went out the window. It looked over all of Arendelle. Her kingdom.

Her _home._

Just seeing it in full summer vibes brought her happiness, and she turned on her heels, exiting her office and closing the door behind her. The halls were too spacious. Too big. It needed someone else. Having only herself was unsettling. She closed her eyes, imagining Anna jumping and skipping through the halls. Her presence filled any room.

Even back then.

What had Anna felt like? What had wandered through these halls felt like when she was alone? Knowing her sister, Anna probably didn't think much of it at all. The queen turned and faced a tall white door adorned with floral patterns and the Arendelle crest. She took a breath and knocked softly a few times. "Anna?"

There was no reply from the other side. Elsa sighed. So that was what that felt like. She shook her head and opened the door just a crack, her sister's snoring sounding a cannon as soon as she peaked her head through. The queen placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, and she entered her sister's room.

The blue light from the window illuminated Anna's face. The redhead had always been adorable when she slept, and nothing had changed. Elsa walked over furtively to the foot of Anna's bed, knowing that if she walked a little louder, her sister most likely wouldn't have heard a thing.

She sat slowly on the bed, lifting a hand and placing it on Anna's forehead. Her sister was warm, or Elsa herself was just cold. She could never tell. She brushed strands of red hair out of her sister's eyes, a smiling forming instantly. Her breath hitched slightly as she moved her hand down to Anna's chest.

To her heart.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip as she waited.

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

The beat was steady and strong, and Elsa sighed in relief, placing a soft kiss on her sister's forehead. "Good night." She whispered.

Anna snored in reply, and Elsa shook her head, chuckling to herself as she exited her sister's room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. She took another deep breath before taking steps towards her own room. She reached for the door handle but stopped short.

 _Brother._

Elsa turned her head sharply in all directions.

 _My brother._

The voice sounded again, but from where, Elsa couldn't place it. She took a breath and shook her head. It was nothing. It was absolutely nothing. She entered her room, smiling as she saw the bed. Sleep was calling her name louder than ever before. She waved her hand, her dress altering into a nightgown. The queen tucked herself under the covers, settling beneath the warmth as sleep came over her quickly, and the voice she heard didn't make another sound the rest of the night.

/

"Your Highness!"

Elsa's eyes fluttered open slowly as she heard voices. People were whispering, she couldn't tell who, but she then felt a hand on her shoulder, and that hand began to shake her. "Elsa!"

The queen's eyes shot open, and she saw Anna above her, still in her sleeping clothes as well. "Anna?" Elsa asked, groggily, sitting up in bed. "What's going on?"

Anna bit her lip and Elsa's eyes focused on the group of her staff inside her room, and they all had one thing in common.

They were all freezing.

Each one had their arms around themselves to keep them warm. Each had chattering teeth. They were all covered head to toe in snow. Elsa looked around her room, ice covering every inch in jagged patterns, a stark difference compared to the gracefulness that normally went along with her powers.

The queen's eyes widened and darted to her hands that were covered in frost, and her gaze finally shifted to Anna's turquoise eyes that were filled with concern, and another unmistakable emotion.

Fear.

"We were hoping you could tell us."


	5. Chapter 5

Elsa had ordered everyone except for Anna out of her room. With a wave of her hand, the jagged ice that had surrounded the walls had vanished, and Elsa had control over her own power once again. She and Anna spent several minutes in silence, and for that time, Elsa simply stared at her hands.

 _How?_ Was her only thought.

 _Why?_

Why did her power, which had been under control for months now, suddenly begin to disobey her? Even when she didn't have control over it thirteen years ago, she still knew the power was hers. She still knew that she could control it eventually, but now it seemed, to her, that it had a mind of its own.

The queen gulped and slowly looked up at her sister, her hands clutching the satin fabric of the sheets. Anna's turquoise eyes conveyed concern beyond anything she'd ever seen, but looking closer, it wasn't concern in her eyes.

It was sadness.

And even though that was all Elsa could see, she knew deep down there would be fear.

There would always be fear.

"It was snowing through the entire castle." The redhead made her way over to her sister, sitting down next to her and brushing a few strands of Elsa's hair out of her eyes. "What happened?"

Elsa hung her head, unable to look at her sister after what she'd done. It was outbursts like the one she'd just had that caused disasters. It caused trouble. It caused fear. She had seen the look in Anna's eyes. The distress that lurked inside a girl who was trying to be optimistic just for her. Elsa couldn't admit that she didn't know. She couldn't admit that she didn't have control. She couldn't admit that there was a chance that she would hurt Anna again.

Warm fingers hooked underneath Elsa's chin, and her face was lifted upwards and turned towards Anna who gazed at her lovingly. "It's alright." Anna pulled Elsa towards her, sending the queen's eyes wider than they'd ever been. Anna was embracing her, stroking her hair gently. Comforting her. Protecting her. Even when Elsa could have been a danger to her, she wasn't afraid. "I..." Elsa started, biting her lip.

She wrapped her arms around Anna's waist, listening to her heartbeat as she'd done only a few hours ago.

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

Elsa couldn't help but let out another relieved sigh, and she then shook her head. "I don't know."

There was silence. And then there was Anna's warm and soothing voice. "You don't know anything?"

Elsa shook her head and pulled away, gazing into her sister's eyes, and then at her hair. Anna always had a propensity to have major bed hair. Strands were tousled every which way, and the fact that her sister hadn't noticed made it that much better. A smile flashed across the queen's lips for less than a second before a pensive look adorned her face. "I was sleeping, Anna." She stood up, wrapping her arms around herself as she made her way over to the window. The blue light of the moon still shining down on her.

She placed a hand on the glass, leaning her forehead against it. "I don't know what happened it just-"

 _My brother._

Ice came seeping out of Elsa's hand, spreading itself across the window in the same jagged form as before. Elsa went pale and took more than a few steps back, dread filling her as she gazed at the ice on the wall. Anna came from behind her, putting both of her hands firmly on Elsa's arms. "Just calm down." She soothed, circling around to face Elsa head on.

Elsa opened her mouth to speak but said nothing as she wrapped her arms around herself, careful not to have her fingers anywhere near Anna's arms. The redhead caught on and shook her head as she took one of Elsa's hands in her own. "You won't hurt me. I'm not afraid." She grinned, bringing Elsa to sit back on the bed. "Just talk to me."

Elsa nodded and took a deep breath. "I've been-" The queen shook her head again. "It's silly. It's probably nothing. It will be better in the morning."

"Absolutely not." Anna scowled, looking Elsa in the eyes. "If something's bothering you, Elsa, you have to tell me." She pleaded. "I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

Elsa focused her gaze on the window. At the ice on the wall, and then back to Anna. "I've been hearing... a voice."

Anna raised a brow. "A voice?" The redhead blinked, visibly trying to comprehend what her sister had just said, but urged Elsa to continue on speaking.

"It keeps saying 'brother'." Elsa sighed. "I don't know what it means, but when it speaks to me I..." The queen's eyes shifted to the window.

"When it speaks to you, you lose control.." Anna finished her sentence, and Elsa nodded, and Anna leaned closer to her, hugging her sister again. "Don't worry about it." The reassurance in Anna's voice was enough for Elsa to stop worrying for a full second. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."

Anna's hands enveloped Elsa's, and the two smiled at each other for a solid minute before Elsa pulled Anna into another tight embrace. "Thank you.." She whispered. "Thank you for everything."

Anna giggled but hugged her sister just as tightly. "I didn't do anything." She shrugged. "I just want to be there for you."

The princess broke the embrace, taking a moment to look at her sister. "Now get some rest." Her lips curled into a smile. "Don't you have a meeting tomorrow for the ball?"

Elsa nodded as Anna began to step away from the bed. She didn't want to scare Anna. She didn't want to scare her subjects or her staff. If she let her powers remain unchecked, there would be consequences. Consequences that Elsa couldn't risk. "Anna, wait."

The redhead turned around, as she already had one foot out the door. "What's up?" A red brow raised as she looked at Elsa.

The queen's eyes darted to a desk across the room, and then her eyes shifted back to Anna. "Can you... can you hand me what's in that drawer?"

Anna looked skeptically at her sister but nodded as she strode across the room. The redhead hummed as she opened the drawer, but when she opened it, she turned her head back to Elsa, her eyes wide with shock and concern. "Elsa, I don't think you need to-"

"Please," Elsa interrupted, breaking her sister's gaze to look down at her hands that gripped the sheets. Frost had once again begun seeping from her fingertips, and it began crawling up her skin. "Just to be safe."

Anna bit her lip, her turquoise eyes looking sad in the darkness. She reluctantly reached into the drawer, pulling out a pair of turquoise gloves. She walked slowly back over to the bed, handing the gloves to Elsa. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I mean are you sure that you need them. Not 'are you sure that you want them?' because you obviously wanted them. You wouldn't have asked for them if you didn't but I..."

Elsa had put the gloves on in the middle of Anna's rambling, already feeling safer, and more confident with them on. She reached for her sister's hand with her gloved one and looked into Anna's eyes. There it was again. That sadness. That fear. "It's alright." The queen smiled softly. "I'll be better in the morning. I promise."

"Well, it's already morning, silly." The princess laughed softly, hoping to lighten the mood just a bit, and Elsa's slight smile told her she'd accomplished her goal. Even if her sister was still worried, at least Anna could lift her spirits moment by moment until they solved the problem at hand. "Just get some rest," Anna whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Their gazes lingered on each other for more than a moment before Anna exited Elsa's room, blowing a kiss to the queen before she closed the door behind her. Elsa flopped backward, her head cushioned by the pillow underneath her, and she lifted up her hands, eyeing them. She waited. She waited for something. Anything. A voice. _The_ voice.

 _Brother._

Elsa's heart rate skyrocketed. She was waiting. Waiting for the storm. The chill in the air. The jagged ice.

There was nothing.

 _Brother._

Once again, there was nothing.

Elsa sighed in relief. There was no jagged ice. There was no chill in the air. The gloves were helping, as they had long ago. She hated remembering that time. The time when she had to live in fear of herself. It seemed those times weren't over, but she'd found a temporary solution. Knowing there was nothing to be afraid of, the queen finally closed her eyes and slept peacefully through the night.

/

Elsa had woken up a few hours later. The amount of sleep she'd gotten was enough to get her through the meeting concerning the masquerade ball. It was the only thing she had scheduled for the day, but it was bound to be long, full of disagreements and compromises, and discussions pertaining to the most minor of details she could possibly think of.

The type of silverware. What decorations. How each table and chair should be placed in the ballroom. What kind of food they would have. She was already dreading most of it, but she was intrigued about the guest list more than anything.

It was a ball open for all, but the queen had invited some guests personally. Her thoughts wandered to the man she'd met at the inn. Corin. A smile spread onto her face as she reflected on Anna's reaction to the cloak. She secretly shared her sister's desire of having one just like it someday, although, preferably in blue.

The queen had her platinum blonde hair tied back into her signature braid, and her dress, cyan and made of icy crystals that glittered in the sunlight.

The only accessory she wore was the gloves.

Turquoise, soft, comforting. The ice hadn't returned all night, and if it had, she didn't hear a single thing about it. She assumed the best case scenario, something Anna would have done. That thought was her only comfort as she headed towards a large pair of white double doors, the red velvet carpet outlining her path. From the outside, she could already hear bickering, and she shook her head as she placed her hand on the handle.

 _Brother._

Elsa's eyes widened as the voice sounded again. Her gaze shifted sharply to her hands. Frost had begun to cover the gloves themselves. The queen took a deep breath, thinking of her father, her mother, of _Anna._ When she opened her eyes again, the ice had receded. She was once again in control.

Everything would be fine.

The queen took one more breath as she walked into the room. There was one large round table, all of the seats occupied except for one, and contrary to her expectance of silence, there was bickering.

No.

Yelling.

"All I want to know is who invited them!" One of her advisors shouted.

"Why should you care?!" Another hissed. "You're just as bad as that brat from the Southern Isles!"

"I beg your pardon?!"

"I think it is rather brave of her." Another retorted.

"It's not brave, it's stupid! Why would she invite people from a kingdom who tried to-"

All heads turned towards Elsa as she stood by the door, and instantly, silence filled the air. The diplomats and advisors all in unison bowed their heads as Elsa walked to her seat at the table. They only raised their head when the queen took her seat, and the others followed suit, not saying a word until one brave man broke the silence.

"Good morning, your Majesty." A man with curly chestnut hair and stubbles that outlined a beard addressed her. He was dressed in a green suit adorned with whorls of gold. His pants were the same color and design while his knee-high boots were black. He wore multiple medals on his chest, signifying his contribution to the kingdom. Elsa smiled as she gazed into his caramel colored eyes. He seemed to be the most welcoming of the bunch in the queen's eyes.

"Good morning, Arthur." The queen responded sweetly, the man giving her a charming smile in return.

"Good morning, Your Highness." A woman dressed in a myriad of purples greeted her. Her hair chocolate hair rested over one shoulder and was curled softly at the bottom, while her bright silver eyes were a stark contrast to her dark tones, so different they seemed out of place. Although her eyes looked warm, they demanded attention and respect. Her tanned skin was flawless and smooth. Although she was older than Elsa, she looked about the same age as the queen herself. "Where would you like to start?"

Elsa glanced around the table, her eyes eventually meeting the woman's again. "I think we should start with the guest list."

"I think that's a wonderful idea." A sharp voice filled the room. The same voice that had berated her moments ago.

Elsa's head shifted to a man, his suit and pants were red and lined with golden swirls, he too wore knee-high black boots. He was a slender man, lanky and fragile-looking with skin so pale he looked as if he hadn't seen the sun in days. His eyes were a welcoming emerald green, but the look in them was anything but warm. "With all due respect, what exactly are you thinking, your Highness?" Elsa glanced around the table, glares coming from almost everyone, their eyes all focused on the man speaking, but the queen herself showed no reaction as the man held up a paper covered with names. "I thought you were staying away from the Southern Isles."

Elsa's head hung so she could see the papers in front of her, the guest list right on top. Her gaze then shifted back to the man, and she straightened her back and clasped her gloved hands together. "I don't see the problem, Damien." The queen met his gaze without fear. "There are only two names from there on this list."

"That may be true, your Highness, but one of them is a prince." His brow furrowed, everyone in the room recalling the same event at the same time. "And the other is someone that I, and all of your advisors, have never even heard of." Damien retorted.

"I personally think it's smart." The woman dressed in purple nodded at Elsa. "The Southern Isles is a trade kingdom, and because of the Terminal Accords being broken, they're scared." The woman's silver eyes looked into Elsa's icy blue ones, nothing but confidence in them, while Elsa couldn't give her the same look. "They know what can happen if it ever happens again."

Elsa hated the reasoning behind the woman's words, but she couldn't deny that they were true. Elsa could shut down their trade. She could freeze the ocean and leave them helpless, she could leave their people hungry for years on end. She could cast the same eternal winter she'd cast over Arendelle. Their crop would be gone.

With a wave of her hand, they would have nothing.

She would never exploit her powers in that way, but it could be done if she pleased, and that was what scared the Southern Isles, and the possibility that she could lose control scared her even more.

"There is nothing wrong with giving them a second chance." The woman continued, "Furthermore, they are a trade kingdom just as we are, and they are in league with Northern Isles who has one of the strongest militaries this era has ever seen." She continued. "It is a smart, political move made with the hopes of establishing connections."

"You seem to forget about Arendelle, Cornelia." Damien interrupted, scowling at the woman.

"He's correct." Arthur frowned as his gaze shifted to Elsa. "What of the people, my queen? What will they say?"

"That is precisely what I was getting to." Damien chimed in. "You cannot expect the people to be on board with them coming here. I think Hans was bad enough that you would learn your lesson."

Elsa shook her head. "Jehan is not Hans,"

"Then what is he?" Damien spat, frustration becoming apparent in his tone.

"He is another prince from the Southern Isles, and the invitations have already been sent out," Elsa replied calmly. "There is nothing we can do about it now."

"That may be true, but he is another prince who could very well do the same thing Hans did to you and your sister. I'm just worried that you will regret your decisions to invite either one of them."

The queen's fingers curled inward as Damien spoke, but she stared unwaveringly at her advisor. She couldn't deny that Hans's betrayal had put her on edge. She was untrusting of almost everyone. Everyone except for Anna.

She wondered if, at their core, the princes were all the same. Power hungry and greedy, but at the same time, it wasn't fair. Her father had always told her to be fair, and she wouldn't dishonor his memory. "You cannot judge people you haven't met."

The green-eyed man rolled his eyes. "I can if that someone's brother tried to murder me." He retorted. "How you can even consider bringing one of them into your kingdom after what they'd done is beyond me. I-"

"Enough." Cornelia's voice ran through the room as she cut Damien off, glaring at the man with eyes filled with contempt. "I have served on this council for many years, but never have I seen anyone as disrespectful as you."

Damien crossed his arms. "Forgive me if I'm only concerned about our well-being. As we all should be."

Elsa saw Damien's eyes shift to her gloved hands which she kept on the table. Unafraid. "What is that supposed to mean?" Cornelia snarled.

Damien's brow furrowed as he looked to the queen, scoffing as he began to speak. "I can't be the only one here who is concerned about... what she can do." Elsa bit her lip. "That stunt she pulled last night had everyone in the castle freezing. Who's to say we won't have a repeat of what happened months ago."

"Now you've crossed the line, Damien," Arthur interjected, rising from his seat and leering at his colleague. His voice rose in volume as well. "She probably still has nightmares about that time. How can you mock the trauma she's gone through?"

"That doesn't excuse the fact that she was the one who'd caused it in the first place!" Damien rose from his chair, locking eyes with Arthur. The two now locked in a confrontation Elsa could only watch. " _She_ lost control, and put all of Arendelle at risk because _she_ couldn't keep it together!"

"Enough..." The queen muttered, closing her eyes and gripping her hands tightly. She could feel the power inside her. It fought against her every defense. It tried to take down every wall right in the middle of her entire council. Elsa needed to breathe. She needed some time to collect herself, but the screaming and arguing continued, and the power inside her only fought harder to be released.

"How you got appointed onto this council is beyond me!" Arthur growled. "I don't know what Agnarr was thinking."

Damien scoffed. "I earned my way onto this council. Unlike you." The general smirked. "Just because you're the captain of the guard, doesn't mean you belong in politics."

Elsa rubbed her temple, clenching her jaw. Looking down at her hands, frost had already covered her gloves and had begun seeping onto the table. It was minimal, but she knew it could grow exponentially at any second, and she could have sworn she felt the air get colder.

Her breathing became heavy as fear set it. She couldn't lose control. Not here. Not now. "Enough." the queen said louder through gritted teeth.

What she heard in response was more arguing.

"At least I help people." Arthur sneered, taking a step closer to Damien. "You just tear them down."

"You _help_ people?" Damien bursted into laughter. "Tell that to your daughter. Oh... I forgot... she's dead."

Arthur grabbed a fistful of Damien's shirt, pulling the diplomat closer as anger flared in his eyes. He towered over the diplomat, his fist raised and teeth bared. Damien simply looked up at him with a smirk, and the other members of the council stood up form their seats. Cornelia's eyes went wide as she watched Arthur lay his anger bare for everyone to see, and the captain's fist threatened to connect with Damien's face.

Elsa felt the power inside of her about to explode. A few more seconds and she was sure she wouldn't be able to contain it anymore. The word she yelled next was addressed to Arthur and Damien, but also to the voice inside of her.

"ENOUGH!"

All heads turned to Elsa who was glaring at the two of them. Everyone else sat down but Arthur and Damien who remained standing. Arthur quickly released Damien from his grasp and bowed his head low. "I'm sorry, your Majesty." Guilt was prominent in his voice. And shame. So much shame and disappointment. "I'm deeply, deeply sorry."

Damien rolled his eyes, which went wide when he met Elsa's gaze. The queen's eyes had grown angry. Her brow furrowed in fury as she looked at him. The man's green eyes shifted to her frost-covered gloves and the same frost that had begun to creep across the table in a jagged, monstrous way. "Your... your Majesty, I-"

"Quiet." Elsa hissed, her gaze never leaving Damien's as she rose from her chair.

The diplomat and the general slowly sank back into their seats. "I'm going to excuse myself." The queen looked around the room, making sure all of her advisor's eyes were on her, and that no one would object to her leaving. "Say whatever you need to say to each other." She made sure that her presence filled the room. That her frustration with them was ever present, and that it was clear who was in charge. Who was in control. "And when I come back, I expect all arguments and disputes to be settled so we can continue this meeting in peace." Her eyes scanned every one of her advisors, her final glance lingering on Damien. "Is that understood?"

Every person in the room nodded. "Yes, your Majesty." They all said in unison.

"And Damien," The queen added, turning and pushing the door open. "After this ball, your duties on my council will be suspended."

Elsa then exited the room, taking a breath as the doors closed behind her. She leaned against the wooden doors, wrapping her arms around herself. She had never seen Damien so angry. She'd never seen Arthur lose control the way he had. Although the captain's anger was warranted, Damien's, simply, was not. She couldn't let his behavior go without consequence. That would show weakness, and it wouldn't be fair.

"That insolent child!"

Elsa's eyes widened as Damien's voice resonated through the door.

"She is not a child," Cornelia argued. "she is your queen! And she was perfectly reasonable if you ask me."

"Well, I wasn't asking you." Damien shot back.

"Do you have no empathy?" Elsa heard Arthur growl.

Elsa could feel Damien roll his eyes. "I have no empathy for inadequacy." He spat. "She is incompetent. Inviting those who tried to murder you to a party? Have you ever heard anything so absurd?!"

"Yes, I have," Cornelia replied calmly. "You being on this council."

Elsa had drowned out the arguing, losing herself as she brought her hands in front of her. She took a breath as she placed her fingers on the fabric of the gloves. She slowly pulled them off, finger by finger, and when her hands were finally revealed, frost covered every inch of her hand. Her eyes went wide, and she scrambled to get the other gloves off. She wasn't sure if the screaming was the arguing of her council or the pounding of her heart.

The other hand looked exactly the same when the glove came off. Frost seeping from her fingertips, and it slowly crawled down her arm.

 _Brother._

Ice shot from Elsa's hand, causing her to jump. Her eyes follow the ice in astonishment as the blast crashed into the ceiling of the castle. Jagged icebergs came sinking down as if they were about to rain down at Elsa.

 _I want to see my brother._

More power shot from Elsa's hands and began seeping from Elsa's feet and covering the floor in ice. The queen breathed quickly, trying desperately to get her powers under control. Each time she waved her hand with good intentions, jagged ice escaped. In a matter of moments, almost the entire hallway was covered in ice and snow, and the doors to the meeting room were blue and cold. Elsa could do nothing but stare as snow started to fall.

"Your Majesty?" Cornelia's voice reached her from inside the council room, and Elsa gasped. She couldn't let them come out to this. She wouldn't let herself prove Damien right. She wouldn't deny that it had always been a concern. That what Damien implied about her losing control hadn't crossed her mind every moment of every day, but she didn't expect it to be this bad or this frightening.

"Elsa!" The queen's head turned sharply down the hall, and Anna was sprinting towards her, worry the only emotion in the redhead's eyes.

"N-no." Elsa whispered. "Anna, stay away!" She yelled to her sister. "Just stay away from me!"

"Your Highness!" Arthur's voice yelled. The doors to the council room began to shake. They were trying to get out. No. No, they couldn't see her this way.

 _Brother._

Elsa fell to her knees as snow began to swirl, and the wind picked up. The hallway quickly turned white, and the snow began to surround Elsa. Each breath and heartbeat became faster, and then the voice sounded again.

 _Let me out!_

Elsa noticed a blue outline around her hands, and then, around her entire body. Pain coursed through her like a river bursting through a dam. Her head began to throb, and for once, she felt cold. Every second that passed by, the pain increased, and the storm intensified, and the colder Elsa became. She could have sworn that Anna was calling her name, but she heard nothing over the screaming of her body. And the voice.

 _I will see my brother!_

In front of her, ice began to build into a solid structure, and the queen cried out in pain, loud enough for all to hear, and her eyes went wide when warm arms came around her. "It's alright."

The queen didn't respond, her body incapable of responding. The pain was still present, her heart sending sharp pains through her with every beat, but Anna simply held her tighter, whispering into the queen's ear. "I'm not going to leave you alone." Anna's voice reached her loud and clear through the howling of the storm. "I'm here." The redhead clutched the fabric of the queen's sleeves as she spoke again. "I'm here."

Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna tighter than ever before, burying her face in the crook of her sister's neck, and breath by breath, she began to calm, and the storm began to subside.

 _No!_

Elsa shut her eyes tighter as the voice sounded again.

 _I must see him! I have to see my brother!_

The howling wind began to quiet, and Elsa could feel her power returning to her, and eventually, there was silence.

"Elsa?" The queen slowly pulled away, her eyes immediately meeting Anna's. The redhead was smiling as her arms firmly gripped Elsa's shoulders. "I told you everything would be alright, didn't I?"

Elsa grinned as she looked around, there was no ice to be seen. Not on the walls. Not on the ceiling. The structure that had been building in front of her was gone as well. The storm was over. She was in control again.

Anna's hand moved upwards to Elsa's cheek, and that was when Elsa felt the water falling from her eyes. Anna wiped away her tears and pulled Elsa back to her for another embrace, and Elsa took a deep breath. "Thank you." She whispered in a broken voice. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Your Majesty!"

Elsa broke away from her sister, turning her head to see her advisors push open the doors. Arthur was the first to emerge, rushing to Elsa's side and placing a comforting hand on her back. "Are you alright, your Majesty? Should I go get help?"

Then came Cornelia, then Damien, and the rest of her council filed outward into the hallway. Cornelia slowly walked towards Elsa, kneeling down beside her as Arthur and Anna already had. Damien stood with his fists clenched, his eyes a storm of fury. "What did I tell all of you?" He snarled. "Did I not say that she was dangerous?!" Elsa hung her head in shame. "This monster could destroy us all!"

Elsa didn't know what was stopping her from putting Damien in his place. She had done it back in the council room, but now all she could do was remain silent. She wanted to blame it on her inexperience, but she knew that was far from the truth. She was afraid. Afraid of snapping. Afraid of losing control like she had moments ago.

Anna stood, storming up to Damien. Elsa had never seen so much anger in Anna. Her turquoise eyes should have been red with rage. "My sister is not a monster." She growled. "You're just jealous."

Damien scoffed in the princess's face. "Believe me, _princess."_ He spat her title as if it meant nothing. "I could never be jealous of a witch."

Elsa could feel the power inside of her begging to be let loose at Damien's comment. It pounded against her angrily, as if the power itself had something to say.

"She isn't a witch or a monster." Anna hissed, taking another step towards Damien.

"Then what is she?" The diplomat inquired. "Enlighten me, I'd love to know."

"She's my sister!"

"She's a freak of nature!"

"I will not stand for this!" Cornelia stood from her kneeling position beside Elsa and straightened her posture, glaring at Damien. "As the queen's right hand, I hereby terminate your stay here at the palace and on her Majesty's council. You will leave this instant!"

Damien's smirk had faded, and the only emotion on his face was astonishment. And then that astonishment turned to anger. "What?!" He shrieked. "This is an outrage! I have been an instrumental part of this council for years!"

"On the contrary, you haven't." The woman hissed, taking a step forward, her towering over the diplomat as Arthur had moments ago. "You have been nothing but disrespectful and berating to her Majesty, and how dare you mock Arthur for the death of his child." The woman's silver eyes showed an anger that Elsa nor Anna had ever seen before.

"I have never seen such insolence in my life, and I'm sure her Majesty would agree that you are not at all fit for your position." Elsa marveled in awe at the woman's firm tone. The way she addressed the problem without fear of consequence. How she handled herself with composure. She was everything Elsa strived to be. Strong. Beautiful. Cornelia acted like the queen Elsa could never be. Not for a very long time. "You will leave at once." She repeated.

Damien opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he clenched his fist and stormed down the hall, purposefully bumping into Cornelia's shoulder as he made his way out of the group's sight. Cornelia looked to Elsa who was smiling at her, and the woman returned a grin before looking around to the other council members. "You are all dismissed." She announced. "We will continue this meeting at a different hour."

The other advisors and diplomats began their descent down the hall, and Cornelia went and kneeled back beside Elsa, taking the queen's hands in her own. "Are you alright?" She asked with concern. Her voice was sweet and soothing. Like a mother's. Cornelia looked like her mother, although there were minor differences in appearance, their personality was overall the same. Elsa couldn't help but look up to her.

The queen nodded. "I am. Thank you."

Anna bit her lip as she tapped Cornelia's shoulder. "Miss Cornelia, that was..." the redhead beamed. "Thank you." Was all she could say as she hugged the woman tightly.

Arthur chuckled and helped Elsa to her feet. "Cornelia was on your father's council." The captain told them. "She was the youngest advisor in Arendelle's history. At eighteen she'd already secured a place, and by twenty-one, she was his and your mother's right hand."

Cornelia shook her head. "Oh, stop it." She giggled. "I heard you were the youngest captain of the guard."

Arthur shrugged. "Well, I had a little inspiration."

The two glanced at each other for a few moments, only for Anna to break the silence. "Alright, you two!" She said, shoving the two of them down the hall. "Go canoodle somewhere else!"

Arthur and Cornelia laughed before making their way down the hall, talking as they'd known each other forever. Elsa smiled at the couple, and then her eyes shifted to Anna who had already taken Elsa's hand. "Come on."

Elsa blinked. "What?"

Anna giggled. "I said 'come on', you stinker." The redhead rolled her eyes. "We're going out."

"Out? Anna I can't go out, I have a ball to plan! I can't just _leave_ the castle."

Anna shook her head as she began dragging Elsa down the hall. "That's exactly why you need to go out, Elsa. After what just happened, you need to have some fun." The redhead giggled. "And who knows more about fun than me?" The redhead let a mischievous grin creep up her lips, and there was a gleam in her eyes Elsa only saw when Anna had an idea. Whether that idea was a good one or not, she would have to wait and see. "We're going out for breakfast."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Anna, no. We went out yesterday! And I can't. I have paperwork, and I have planning to do. I have to refill the place on my council. I-."

The redhead shook her head. "Yesterday was business, Elsa. We didn't even do anything. We'll go to Hannah's place. I want to see if that man with the cloak is still there and if he can make me one, and Kristoff and Sven can meet us there too! It'll be one big family outing. What do you say?"

Elsa grinned and began walking beside her sister. Anna wanted to go and see a man whose face they hadn't seen. It was typical of her sister, and the queen's eyes glittered. "I'd say _that_ sounds like fun."

/

Hans's eyes fluttered open, and lightheadedness flooded his entire body. A throbbing sensation coursed through his head as his blood began to pump too fast. He felt light, but more importantly, he felt well rested. Light pierced his sensitive eyes, the former prince taking a few minutes to draw accustomed to the brightness before he heard Ravian's energetic voice. "Rise. And. Shine!"

Hans sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, his senses still limited and impaired by grogginess. "How long was I out?"

"A full day." the spirit replied. "Twenty-four hours."

Hans brought his hands away from his eyes which widened when he saw Ravian. Shirtless. The spirit, although not human, looked better than almost everyone he'd ever seen. His abdomen was defined, with six separate sections all even and toned. The spirit laughed softly and placed his hands on his hips. "Do you like what you see?"

Hans rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. He just wanted his sight anywhere but on Ravian. "You can think that if you'd like." Hans heard Ravian's chuckle and forced himself to look back at the spirit, but only looking into Ravian's eyes. "Where did you go?"

He watched Ravian for any kind of reaction, but the spirit only gave him a shrug. "I already told you. It was none of your business."

"Right." Hans sighed as he looked away. "And can you put a shirt on? It's bad enough that you already don't wear shoes all the time I'm surprised your feet haven't rotted by now." Ravian laughed a hearty laugh and nodded. With a snap of his fingers, a plain red tunic adorned his upper body, and Hans could finally look his way again. "Why don't you ever wear shoes?" Hans asked curiously, looking down at the spirit's bare feet, then back to Ravian who was looking at his toes. His lips had curved downward into a frown. Hans had never seen the spirit sad before.

"No reason," Ravian replied his lips curving into a slight frown.

Hans scoffed and stood up, stretching his legs. "That is the biggest lie I've ever heard."

Ravian rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't think you're one to talk about lying."

Hans bared his teeth at the spirit. He couldn't defend what he'd done. It was impossible. He'd tried to murder for power. He'd tried to deceive for a throne. He'd almost taken innocent lives, but this man he barely knew was able to beat him at every turn. Everything Hans did, he was there, and he was one step ahead almost every time. He took advantage of every weakness.

He was just like Jehan, and Hans couldn't stand it.

He didn't need another Jehan in his life. One was already enough to make him miserable. With a yell of rage, Hans held his hand out towards Ravian, expecting flame and destruction all around them.

There was nothing.

Ravian then bursted into laughter, doubling over as he spoke, his words barely audible over his cackling. "How adorable." He mused. " _You_ think you can use _my_ power? You really are idiotic, aren't you?"

Hans looked at his hand in frustration, and then at Ravian, disdain in his emerald eyes. "Why won't it work, monster?" He snarled. "Tell me." Ravian's laughter ceased sharply, and his brows furrowed and his mouth set into a thin line as he took steps towards Hans, the former prince instantly regretted his word choice, as Ravian now peered down at him with all the power in the world and anger that made Hans's heart pound in his chest, and Hans could do nothing but stare in fear.

"My power is only yours when I am inside of you." The spirit stated calmly. "For you to have my power the way you are now, you would have to reverse the tethering process. We aren't tethered, so that couldn't happen, and you're so stupid you would never be able to figure out how to do something like that in the first place." Ravian never broke Hans's gaze as he said his next words. "If you want a monster, Hans, I can give you one."

Hans shook his head as his fingers curled into a fist, and the former prince looked down in defeat. "I'm sorry." Every second of the apology was excruciating. He was a prince. He shouldn't need to apologize, but he couldn't deny that he'd been cruel.

Ravian stepped away from Hans, allowing him a bit of breathing room, and the spirit smiled as if nothing had happened. "They're serving breakfast in the lobby, and I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

Hans sighed. "Anything so I don't have to talk to you." He muttered, walking over to the one closet their small room had.

He opened the wooden doors but found nothing, but cobwebs and dust, and he bit his lip as he looked down at the clothes he was wearing. They were regal and tidy. They wouldn't fit among the common people. Hans scolded himself as he turned to Ravian "Could you..." He stopped, trailing off as he hung his head.

Ravian looked at the former prince, raising a brow. "Could I what? You can't just leave the sentence there."

Hans shook his head. He needed something else. Something that would make him look like he belonged in Arendelle. Something that didn't make him look like the murdering prince he was known to be in the very kingdom they resided in. "Can you give me something to wear?"

Ravian's lips looped into a soft smile. "Why didn't you say so?"

Hans heard the familiar snap, and his suit transformed into a loose white tunic that looked too big for him but fit perfectly to his surprise. His pants were now beige and fitted to his form, and his white and regal boots turned to black leather that went to his knees. "You look stunning, dear." Ravian chuckled. "Now, there's only one thing left to do."

The spirit walked over to Hans and aggressively ruffled Hans's hair. "You can't be all groomed when you go down there. I can put some dirt on your face if you'd like."

Hans quickly went to tame his hair and glared at Ravian. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you."

The spirit laughed at Hans's snarl, and the two made their way into the lobby. Most of the tables were filled, and Hans sighed. "I guess we came too late."

Ravian shook his head and pushed Hans forward further into the crowded lobby. "There's a table right there, idiot."

Hans rolled his eyes as he began to walk. Noises came from every direction. The waiters and waitresses were rushing to get orders. The kitchen was battling to get food out on time. Patrons were conversing about who knew what, and as he looked around, he couldn't believe how perfectly he blended in. Almost every person was wearing the same outfit as Hans, and the former prince turned to Ravian who simply smiled at him. "I went to do some exploring." The spirit shrugged as a grin made its way onto his lips. "Also known as saving your sorry butt."

Hans felt his lips curl into a smile, as he sat down at the table for two, Ravian sitting across from him. The spirit sat back in his chair, his arms crossed as he looked at Hans. "I have something for you." Hans raised a brow and leaned closer as Ravian reached into one of his pant pockets. "This came for you later in the day while you were sleeping, I figured I'd take a look."

Ravian held out a hand for Hans, and in between his fingers was a piece of parchment paper folded multiple times and sealed with scarlet wax. Hans's brow raised higher as he took the paper carefully from Ravian, and Hans brought it towards him for a closer look. The first thing he noticed was the symbol etched into the wax. The crocus.

The crocus of Arendelle.

"I bet you it's your ball invitation." Hans looked up to see the spirit smirking at him.

Hans looked back down to the paper, secretly hoping Ravian was wrong, but in his mind, he knew he was dead on the nose. Hans slipped his finger under the wax which released from the paper easily. The folds came undone, revealing a page that was covered in handwriting that looked like calligraphy.

 _Dear Corin,_

 _Arendelle is honored to invite you to the castle's annual summer ball. The event will take place on the eighth of July. Please come wearing formal attire and a mask. We look forward to enjoying your company._

 _Queen Elsa of Arendelle_

Hans refolded the paper, looking up to see the spirit grinning at him. "I was right, wasn't I?"

Hans shook his head. "Egotistical maniac." He muttered.

Ravian laughed, but his voice wasn't the only one Hans heard.

"Good morning." Hans and Ravian both looked in the direction of the voice, and standing there was the woman that had checked Hans into the inn. She placed two glasses of water in front of both men and spoke again. "Can I get you both something to drink?"

Hans looked at Ravian who pushed his water towards Hans, not wanting anything to do with it at all. Hans simply looked back at the woman, shaking his head. "No thank you, miss Hannah."

The woman's eyes went slightly wide, surprised at his knowledge of her name, but she nodded. "How about something to eat then?" She grinned. "We're serving pancakes today as a special."

Hans and Ravian both looked at each other.

And they both smiled.

"One order." They both said in unison.

"And add some chocolate in mine?" Ravian added.

The woman nodded and rushed right off to the kitchen, and Hans looked at Ravian with a raised brow. "You're a chocolate person?"

The spirit shrugged. "I can have a bit of a sweet tooth sometimes." He chuckled. "I'm around your bitter attitude all day. I think I'm entitled to it."

Hans rolled and the former prince leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So, can you tell me?" He asked. "Why you don't wear shoes?"

"We're still on that, huh?" Ravian subconsciously looked down at his feet and sighed as he looked out the window, his eyes looking towards Arendelle's castle. "Because she didn't."

Both of Hans's brows raised. "Who is _she_?" He asked, urging Ravian to continue.

The spirit's eyes looked solemn as he turned his face back to Hans, and he opened his mouth to speak.

 _CRASH!_

"Hey! Come back here!"

Hans recognized Hannah's voice, and his head turned sharply towards the middle of the lobby, and a black figure rushed out the door, sprinting as fast as it could down the streets of the town. His eyes shifted to Hannah who was screaming, and on the verge of tears. Whatever had been taken from her, she was devastated. He felt a pang in his heart, knowing that he had only heard and felt sadness like that once.

With them.

With Elsa hearing of Anna's death, and the redhead herself as she protected her sister with her last breaths. Things were different now. He had power. He could stop that thief.

He _had_ to stop that thief.

"Go." Hans turned his head to Ravian who jutted his head in the direction of the thief.

Hans was out of his seat in moments. Every person's head turned to watch as he sprinted out of the inn's lobby and onto the streets. Adrenaline filled him as his eyes scanned the area frantically. Where in the world could the thief have gone? He saw Ravian from the window pointing, and Hans nodded as he took off in hurry. He had gotten slow due to his lack of exercise, but he was still moving fast enough to catch up to the thief who he was finally able to pinpoint with his eyes. Hans smirked as he held his hand out, waiting to see the flames shoot from his hands and knocked the thief off balance.

There was nothing.

Hans cursed under his breath. Ravian hadn't gone with him. Why?

He barely saw the black-clad figure took a sharp turn, and Hans picked up the pace, following the thief's trail as best he could. He ran through alleyways and under viaducts, trying his best to avoid all the people in the market. which made it even harder to see the thief. The traffic was so bad, eventually, he had to stop running. He cursed as his head turned every which way, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned his head once more, only to see a streak of black across his vision.

"Stop!"

His yelling caused everyone to turn their heads, and the crowd parted like the red sea for Hans as he ran, his heart echoing the speed his feet hit the ground. Each step brought him closer to the thief who made another sharp turn around a large house. Hans smirked as he took the other direction, circling around quickly to the other side.

 _BOOM!_

The two collided, sending both men tumbling to the ground. Hans ignored the pain and stood up, holding down the thief who was writhing in pain underneath the weight of Hans's body. "Get. Off. Me!" The thief yelled, kicking and struggling against Hans's grasp. The former prince put more pressure on the thief, making it harder for him to escape.

"Not until you give back what you stole." Hans hissed in return, leaning closer to the man. "Now give it back. Whatever it was!"

The thief suddenly laughed, smirking as he grabbed a handful of the fabric of Hans's tunic, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. "I didn't know that the murdering prince had an honorable side."

The thief released Hans's tunic, but the former prince was stunned. Ravian had made him blend in perfectly. How did this thief know who he was?

Who was this thief?

Hans turned his head and saw a crowd of spectators gathering around him. He heard one clap, and then a round of applause and cheers filled the entire town. He couldn't' help but smile. This was what he'd wanted all along. Recognition. Power. Glory. He chuckled to himself and closed his eyes, reveling in a moment of glory that he wished would last forever.

"What's going on?"

Hans's eyes opened and went wide. The voice was too familiar for comfort. He barely turned his head, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw red hair. The more he shifted his gaze, he saw two braids and a woman with turquoise eyes looking at him curiously. Next to her was a man large with muscle. His hair was dirty blonde and his eyes were a chocolate brown. He wore a blue tunic lined with green with sleeves that went a little past his elbows, and a black vest on top, and a red patterned sash around his waist. His pants were long and black, and his shoes were black and pointed.

And then there was a woman in a turquoise dress. It glittered in the sunlight, and fit her figure too perfectly. Her icy eyes stared into his. At first, there was curiosity.

Then shock.

Then anger.

"Stop him!" Elsa's voice rang through the air, firm and authoritative.

And Hans ran, leaving the thief to whatever fate awaited him. The former prince didn't care. He just needed to escape town. He needed to escape Elsa.

Breathing became harder by the second. It seemed like no matter how hard he begged for rest, Hans couldn't catch a break. He ran for the forest, hoping that the trees would cover his movements. He dared not to look back to see if anyone was pursuing him, all he focused on was the forest in front of him, and keeping his legs quick and sure. After minutes of sprinting, Hans's feet had finally found dirt and grass, and the trees finally concealed him as he rushed through the vines and tall grass. His heart pumped faster in all the time he'd been in Arendelle.

After torturous minutes, he looked back, relief rushing through him when Elsa's shimmering cyan dress was nowhere to be found. Her icy gaze had been engraved in the back of his mind. The former prince eventually slowed, and after examing the area around him once more, he leaned against a tree, sinking and sitting in the dirt as he took more than a moment to catch his breath. His feet felt heavy, and his heart continued to pound rapidly in his chest, trying to replenish all the energy he'd lost over months of maltreatment.

He hit the ground multiple times with his hands, screaming in frustration. He had been careless. He hadn't thought any of it through, and yet he'd still gone and tried to help. Ravian was right. He was stupid.

Hans eventually stood, his body pleading for a few more minutes, but he knew that if he complied, he wouldn't move for days. He wiped the dirt and dust off of his trousers and tunic, turning towards the direction he would continue on. He had to keep running. He wasn't safe until he was out of Arendelle.

"Just breathe, Hans." He whispered to himself as he took one deep breath. "It's fine. She's gone. You'll be-"

A gust of wind shot through the air, hitting Hans like a cannonball. He was flung against a tree, his head colliding with the trunk which sent dizziness and pain all throughout his body. His hands and feet suddenly felt cold. His head turned to see his wrists held against the tree with ice, and his feet were attached to the ground by the same glittering substance.

He couldn't move.

The crunching of leaves sounded, and Hans hesitantly looked up, and there she was with her hand outstretched, and her gaze burned with such rage it could stop a blizzard in seconds.

Elsa walked slowly, tauntingly towards him, and only stopped when they were inches apart. "How dare you." Her voice was a strained hiss as a sharp point of ice grew out of the ground, its frozen tip only inches away from Hans's neck. The former prince gulped as his heart beat faster, glad for the ice to keep him cool in his moment of fear and terror.

Elsa's eyes pierced Hans's emerald orbs, and the former prince couldn't look away from the beautifully terrifying woman. "How dare you come back here after what you've done."

* * *

A/N: Just a bit of a forewarning: I'm going away soon. I'm leaving on the 8th and I'm not coming back until the 21st or 22nd. I'm going to Orlando Florida for this music intensive program, but I'll have a chapter up next week it just might come a little earlier than it normally does because I have things I need to do before I leave for this program. Anyway, after next week, don't expect an update until I come back. Tell me what you liked or didn't like in a review, and I'll see you guys when I get back.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thump._

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

Hans's heart beat in his chest like a clock counting down to what seemed to be his last moments. Face to face with the one he'd tried to murder in cold blood. He'd called her a monster without understanding what a monster really was. In her eyes was a bloodlust so great he'd never seen anything like it. The ice pointed at his neck was the only thing keeping him from speaking.

God, how he longed to feel Ravian's flames inside of him. He longed to feel that familiar thrum of power he had never been able to feel. And in the moments when he needed it the most, Ravian was nowhere to be found.

"How dare you." Hans gulped as Elsa came closer, her presence so overpowering he went stiff, like a single touch could shatter him into a million pieces. She seemed to tower over him even though she stood half a head shorter than him. "How dare you come back here after what you've done." Hans tried to clench his fists under the ice restraining them. There was no luck, there was no sensation at all. His hands had gone numb.

Hans's eyes shifted to the queen's hands. Hands so powerful they could kill him with just the twitch of a finger, but they were shaking. "You..." Elsa hissed through gritted teeth.

"I what?" He jeered. "What did I-"

The icicle pointed at his neck drew nearer, its frozen point making contact with Hans's skin, not enough pressure to pierce, but enough to shut him up. "You don't get to speak." Elsa took another small step forward, ice trailing in her wake. The air around them had gotten instantly colder, and every single one of Hans's breaths became visible as if his very fear was seeping out of him for Elsa to see. Suddenly, a voice.

 _I'm coming._

Hans fought the urge to smirk when he heard Ravian's speak inside of his mind. Relief rushed through him, and he found himself relaxing even in the face of Elsa's power. In a matter of minutes, he wouldn't be powerless anymore. He would have just as much, if not more power than the queen in front of him, but for the time being, there was only one thing he could do.

Stall.

In any way possible.

The former prince raised a brow, all the fear inside of him turning to confidence as he gazed into Elsa's angry eyes before a chuckle escaped his lips. "Then what are you going to do?" He inquired cooly. "Are you just going to stare at me and be angry all day?" On Hans's lips was a smirk. "Because I have to say I am enjoying the view quite a bit."

Hans's eyes followed another icicle that shot towards Hans's neck, hovering just over his skin. His green orbs quickly shifted back to Elsa's icy blue ones that were radiating rage. "Your hurt her." Her voice seeped anger. "You hurt Anna."

The former prince laughed as he stared into the queen's eyes. Knowing that he had nothing to fear. "You're right." He paused, "But you did too."

/

Fury overwhelmed Elsa as she stared into the eyes of her attempted murderer. She wished more than anything she could push the icicle into his neck. She wished she could be rid of him forever, but she couldn't. She didn't have the gall to kill, and she couldn't bring herself to stoop to Hans's level, but that didn't mean she would be letting him go. After what he'd done, he wouldn't be leaving Arendelle's dungeons, in her mind, he deserved much worse than that, but she couldn't bring herself to dish out a crueler punishment. His face seemed thinner than she'd remembered it. His jaw was defined in a malnourished kind of way, and his slender figure gave the same poorly treated appearance.

 _Brother._

The voice rang out in her mind again.

 _Where is my brother?_

Her hands began to shake. She could feel her power threatening to burst, vying to take control of her. For her own sake, she had to stay calm, but that was becoming harder by the second. She could only stare in anger, and her power wanted to let that anger out on the prince. There were so many things to say that she found herself unable to say anything at all. "You hurt her." Was all that came out. "You hurt Anna."

Elsa wanted a reason. She wanted to know why. Why this man had tried to kill for a throne he would never receive. The chuckle that came from Hans made Elsa raise a brow. How in the world could he possibly be _laughing_?

"You're right." The ginger replied in a voice too calm for Elsa's comfort.

The queen felt the urge to yell. To scream. To make him feel all the pain he'd made her, made Anna feel. His confident tone sent anger coursing even faster through her body. How could he be oozing confidence and suave when she had him right where he wanted?

"But you did too."

Elsa's eyes went wide, and her hand began to shake faster. Her heart began to pound in her chest and her knees became weak from surprise. "What?" Her voice came out in a whisper. She couldn't believe what he'd said, but more than that, she couldn't believe what he'd said was true. "What are you talking about?" Once again, anger filled her tone.

The prince's lips curled into a smirk. "You know exactly what I mean." He cooed softly. "Don't even try to play dumb with me." Elsa couldn't believe how quickly the tables had turned on her. One minute, she was in total control, the next, she was in the palm of Hans's hand. "I know about your thirteen years." He continued. "I know how you treated her. How you shut her out." It took Elsa a moment to register another chuckle escaping Hans's lips. "She was so lonely, Elsa. And you didn't care."

Elsa hadn't known how much Anna had confided in him before he'd broken her heart, but her sister had seemingly told him everything. How she'd shut her out. Ignored her. "I-I did...I do care."

 _Brother!_

The voice boomed in her mind again, begging for attention. Begging to be released.

"You can't deny it." Hans continued. "You can't deny how much suffering you've caused her."

Elsa shut her eyes, wanting his words to go in one ear and out the other, but she couldn't overlook her wrongdoings. They'd been at the forefront of her mind for years on end, and hearing all the things she'd done wrong from the man who'd tried to murder her sent her over the edge. Her eyes snapped open and her brow was permanently furrowed in rage. "I think you're one to talk." She hissed. "You tried to murder her! Murder _me!_ "

"At least I had a reason." He retorted, his shoulders rising in a shrug. "I did it for power. Maybe it didn't work, but I still had a motive. Did you?"

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

 _Thump._

Each second that passed made Elsa's heart pound harder against her chest. Memories began to flash through her mind. Every knock on her door that she couldn't answer, but wished with all her heart that she could. The funeral that she couldn't attend because she was too scared. She'd just left Anna alone. She'd wanted to protect her, but instead, she had _hurt_ her, but wasn't she forgiven? Was Anna still hostile towards her deep down? Did Anna truly forgive her? Guilt panged her heart, and then she heard Hans snicker.

She gazed at the prince only to find his lips curled into a smirk. "You manipulative monster." She hissed. This was what he'd wanted all along. To mess with her. To toy with her as he had with her sister.

Han's smirk was now malefic as a thin aura of red became visible around his body, and Elsa's ice suddenly pulled away from Hans's neck. She urged her power towards the prince again, but her power refused. It didn't want to listen to her.

 _Brother!_

The air around Elsa began to shift in temperature. Suddenly, it became hot. Too hot. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. Breathing became harder in the heat, and lightheadedness began to take over while Hans laughed uncontrollably.

"You want a monster, Elsa?"

The ice on Hans's hands and feet began to dissipate into vapor as her power began to disappear before her very eyes.

Her ice was _melting._

Elsa watched as her ice melted quicker by the second. Her throat became dry, and whatever words she'd tried to speak had come out in a whimper when the prince's hands and feet were free from the grasp of her ice.

She could have sworn her heart skipped a beat when she met Hans's eyes, now amber and wicked, as the prince took a step towards her.

"Then I'll give you one."

/

Finally.

 _Finally._

Hans's entire boy grew warm as fire coursed through his entire body. Power thrummed through him, and the urge to release the flames built up inside of him with each passing second. Staring into Elsa's frightened eyes was the equivalent of seeing a lot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

It was a galvanizing miracle he'd once thought was impossible.

Hans took slow, taunting steps towards the queen, planning to revel in every moment of his soon-to-be victory. Every step she took back, he closed the distance quickly.

"Elsa, you can't run from this." He purred. Determination flashed in Elsa's eyes, but when flame enveloped Hans's hand, her courage was squandered, fear to resurface on her face. Her lip began to quiver, and her hands shook faster. She was completely vulnerable. "You can't run from me."

It was time to finish her.

Hans stepped closer so his hand was inches away from her face. The flames illuminated her pale skin, giving the illusion the ice queen was glowing. Even in moments of fear and on the brink of death, she still looked stunning. "I'm sure you'd be happy to be reunited with your parents, wouldn't you? It's been years since you've seen them, hasn't it?"

It was then that Elsa fell to her knees, her eyes wide as she looked in terror up at the former prince. The sight of the queen bowing to him was one he'd remember for the rest of his life. "You'll join them soon."

Hans urged his power forward to deliver the killing blow.

But there was nothing.

 _No._

He urged the power forward again.

Nothing.

Ravian had just refused him.

 _Why?_

Hans fought the urge to keep his confident look on his face. How could Ravian refuse him now? When he was so close? When his revenge was right in front of him?

The flame engulfing Hans's hand receded, leaving only his skin in return.

What the _hell_?.

The former prince forced his smirk to grow as his fingers hooked underneath Elsa's chin.

An uncomfortable feeling panged in his chest as he gazed into the queen's eyes. Tears streamed like a river down her cheeks as her pupils held nothing but sorrow and fear.

And Hans's eyes had never gone wider.

/

 _"We're under attack!"_

 _From the solitary of his room, a young Hans sat on his bed, his knees hugged close to his chest as yelling and the clashing of metal could be heard from outside the castle. Hans dared not to look out his window where an orange tint flickered. He knew what kind of destruction and slaughter was taking place outside the castle walls, but the young prince couldn't bear to bring himself to look._

 _"I don't want to die..." He muttered to himself in the darkness of his room. "I don't want to-"_

 _The door to his room swung open, and standing in the doorway was a man dressed in a scarlet red military uniform lined with gold and white from head to toe. His entire outfit was singed and holes revealed a red liquid dripping from multiple places from the man's body, and his red hair had been tinted black from ash and debris._

 _"Hans, come on! We need to get you to safety!"_ _Hans was too stunned to move. Fear paralyzed the young boy who could only gawk in terror as the soldier quickly approached his bed. "Come on!"_

 _A firm hand clasped Han's wrist, and the young boy was being pulled against his will through the halls of the castle. Hans's feet could barely keep up with the soldier's breakneck pace. The young prince stumbled and stammered. "Caleb.." A whimper escaped Hans's lips as the soldier turned his head towards the boy._

 _"Just keep running, Hans. We're almost there."_

 _Hans watched the soldier continue with determination. "Caleb," Hans said a bit louder._

 _"Just run, Hans!" The soldier yelled. Hans's eyes widened as he looked up at the ceiling. The young prince barely had time to react as a large piece of wood seemed to fall from the sky, landing right in front of the two running boys, blocking their path. "This way!"_

 _The soldier pulled Hans in a different direction, and down a grand staircase. The doors at the end of the hall were so close, yet seemed so far away. Suddenly, the larger man stopped, and Hans halted immediately as the soldier turned to him. "Go, Hans. Go while you can."_

 _Hans's eyes were wide with confusion as he looked up at the soldier. "You're-you're not coming with me?" He asked, tears welling in his eyes._

 _"I have to stay." The man brushed some ginger hair out of Hans's eyes, and the small prince stared up into the emerald eyes of his older brother. "I'll be there soon when everyone is safe."_

 _Hans gave a small nod and launched himself into Caleb's arms. "I'm scared." He whispered. "I'm scared, Caleb."_

 _The older brother, ran his hands soothingly up and down the boy's back, comforting him as best he could through the chaos. Caleb broke the embrace, looking at Hans with fatigued eyes. "You need to be safe, Hans. You have to leave."_

 _"I don't feel safe when I'm not with you." Hans began to sob. "They all hate me. They all think I killed mother! You're the only one who doesn't!"_

 _"They're all idiots." Caleb's informal had Hans taken aback. "I don't hate you, Hans. I love you. Mother did too."_

 _Hans buried his face into the crook of Caleb's neck as he let his tears flow freely._

 _"Look! There!"_

 _"It's the prince!"_

 _"Stop him!"_

 _Caleb's eyes widened with fear as he pushed Hans away from his embrace. The prince saw three figures running down the grand staircase, each with swords in hand. "Go, Hans! Run! Don't look back!"_

 _"But Caleb, what about you? I can't just-"_

 _Hans backed away as the men came closer, two of them holding Caleb's arms down. Hans's eyes went wide as metal poked through Caleb from behind. Hans looked up in terror, Tears streamed like a river down her cheeks as her pupils held nothing but sorrow and fear as blood began to drip from Caleb's mouth. "Run..." His voice was strained, and the words were barely audible. "Run, Hans."_

 _Hans didn't say another word as he turned and took off, running as fast as his small legs would carry him. He pushed through the double doors of the castle, sobbing all the while._

/

Hans found himself unable to speak. He felt like he'd been staring at Elsa for hours, and the queen's lip hadn't stopped trembling. He felt a weight release from his cheek, and his vision blurred from tears he finally realized were falling from his cheeks. "You'll join them later."

Hans urgently removed his fingers from underneath Elsa's chin. From the corner of his eye, he saw the queen's head drop to look at the ground. He quickly wiped his eyes, and his sadness instantly turned to rage. He wouldn't have had to look weak. He wouldn't have had to hesitate if only... if only that-

 _Why so angry?_

Ravian's voice sent rage flooding through Hans. "We need to talk." He hissed. "Now.

/

Impossible.

inconceivable.

Elsa's hand tightly clenched a fistful of her platinum blonde hair. The question that had been burning in the back of her mind for years had finally been answered. There was someone else like her.

But that someone was _Hans_.

 _How?_

Had he always had that power? Had he been hiding it the way she had been?

And if he hadn't already harbored it, how did he obtain it?

One question had been answered, but with that one answer came even more questions. The mere act of thinking about the confrontation she'd just had made her head throb.

And then, her eyes went wide.

 _Anna._

If Hans was coming back, then Anna was in danger. He had power, and the things he could do to her, to Anna...

Elsa didn't dare to envision the horrible things that could transgress.

"Elsa!"

The queen's head shot upward, and a relieved smile spread across her lips as she saw the two figures running towards her.

The next thing she knew, she was being held in a crushing embrace. "What happened?" The familiar voice of her sister rang in her ear, and Elsa gently brought her arms around Anna's waist. "Who was that? You looked really angry when you ran off, but you still ran off! I was so worried! You better have a good reason for scaring me like that!"

"It was..." Elsa gulped. "It was Hans."

Elsa could feel Anna stiffen against her at the mention of her attempted murderer's name. "Here?" Anna broke away to look at her sister, her eyes wide with an emotion Elsa knew too well. "But how did he...I thought he was sent back to the Southern Isles."

"Where is he?" Elsa's eyes shifted to the tall and muscular blonde who stood over the two sisters. His face contorted in anger and his fists clenched. "I have a few things to say to him."

"No, Kristoff." Elsa's voice was firm, yet fear was evident in it. "You can't go after him."

Elsa broke away from her sister's embrace, her shoulders stiff as her head fell to the ground. The queen felt firm hands on her shoulders, and Elsa couldn't resist the pull of Anna's gaze. "Elsa, what happened?" The redhead whispered.

Elsa took a shaky breath. "He's like me, Anna."

The redhead raised a brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean he's like me." Elsa repeated, lifting her hand to stare at her palm.

It was then she heard Anna's voice as soft as a whisper. "He has...powers? But how? Aren't you the only one with them?"

Elsa's shoulders weakly rose into a shrug. "He could have killed me, Anna. He-he didn't, but he...he could have."

An uncomfortable heat spread throughout the queen's body remembering the flame in front of her.

"Does he have ice too?" Anna asked quietly.

Elsa shook her head. "Fire." She shuddered merely thinking about the interaction.

She saw Kristoff blink. "That actually sounds kind of cool." Anna looked back at him with a glare, and the ice harvester raised his arms in innocence. "I'm just saying it _sounds_ like it would be cool, but if he almost killed you it's definitely not cool."

Anna helped Elsa to her feet. "Alright, we need answers." The redhead took Elsa's arm, dragging her skin with her. "Let's go."

Elsa raised a brow as she looked curiously at her sister. "Go where?"

Kristoff and Anna looked at each other mischievously. "Where do you think we're going?" Anna giggled. "To Pabbie, of course."

/

Hans walked to a secluded part of the woods, Ravian's fire still coursing through him. His rage made the flames feel like he could erupt at any minute, which couldn't have been further from the truth.

He made sure they were far away from Arendelle. Far away from Elsa. He'd never been so close. His revenge had been in his grasp, and Ravian had let it slip from his fingers.

"Get out here," Hans ordered. "Now."

The familiar red aura surrounded his body, and Ravian emerged from flames with his arms crossed. Lightheadedness and fatigue overtook Hans, but he ignored the dizziness and stared into Ravian's stoic red eyes.

The former prince launched himself towards the spirit, grabbing a fistful of Ravian's shirt as he pushed the man against a tree, trapping him. "What the _hell_?!"

Ravian said nothing, and let Hans continue to berate him. "I was _so close_! I _had her_! I had her in the palm of my hand and you didn't let me _finish her_!" Hans growled. "Tell me why, Ravian!"

The spirit gave him no response.

"Tell. Me. _Why_!"

Ravian's eyes shifted to his bare feet. "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, lofting his red eyes that now showed anger.

Hans growled as he pressed Ravian's back harder into the tree. "I _understand_ that you just cheated me out of my revenge!"

Ravian's expression had been set in a look of vexation. Even though Hans had trapped the spirit, there was no doubt who was in control, but Hans needed an answer. Ravian had let what Hans had desired for so long slip away, and he needed to know why. "You would have never killed her anyway," Ravian stated bluntly. Hans opened his mouth to speak, taken aback by the spirit's response, but Ravian cut him off. "And I have my reasons, and they're mine alone."

The spirit's voice trailed off, sadness all that could be heard by the end. What in the world was he sad about? What was he thinking? The urge to know beat through every nerve in Hans's being, and then his eyes widened.

He could know. At least, he should be able to know. If Ravian could look into his mind, then why couldn't Hans do the same? The former prince took a breath and relaxed his grip on Ravian's shirt, wanting to feel something. Wanting some kind of sign.

And then, a switch seemed to click throughout his entire body. His mind became clear and his body felt like it was floating above the clouds. He then looked up at Ravian who's red eyes were wide as saucers. "What-what are you...? Don't you dare, Hans! I swear!-"

Hans heard Ravian's voice, but it was nebulous and unclear. The noise of the real world fell away as the former prince stared into Ravian's eyes, and after seconds of eye contact, the spirit's mind and memories opened up to him.

/

 _"Corin, pass it here!"_

 _A smaller version of Ravian called with a laugh. His jet black hair and red eyes remained the same, but Hans had never seen the expression of happiness on the spirit's face as the younger version of himself displayed. Ravian, dressed in a comfortable red shirt and loose grey trousers ran away from another boy standing at the other end of a large field._

 _"Go long, Ravi!"_

 _The boy looked similar to Ravian. His hair was the same black and his eyes were the same red, but his overall figure was more muscular and fit than Ravian's seemingly lanky and thin exterior, and he was about two heads taller as well. He threw a ball of flame high into the air. It was as visible as a golf ball on a foggy day. Ravian sprinted through the field, his head turned over his shoulder to track the movement of the orb through the sky. "I got it! I got it!"_ _He yelled as the orb cane closer and closer to Ravian who now had his hands outstretched to catch the flying projectile._

 _"No, I got it!"_

 _Ravian's eyes wider as a streak of blue whizzed past his vision. The orb of flame became uncharacteristically reflective, and a girl, skating on bare feet past Ravian with the widest smirk he'd ever seen._

 _The girl held out a hand, letting the orb of flame that had now been replaced with an orb of ice fall into her palm. Ravian's eyes examined the girl, her long platinum blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Her figure was slim, yet toned, and her face was heart shaped and symmetrical, and her cheeks were plump; the type a grandmother wouldn't hesitate to get her hands on. Her icy blue eyes screamed innocence and fun. The girl was the perfect picture of adorable._

 _"Lorelei!" Ravian hollered. "That was my ball!"_

 _The girl laughed innocently, as Ravian who's crossed his arms in a pout walked towards her, looking down at his sister. There could have been two of her and Ravian still would have been taller. "Sorry, brother. Better luck next time."_

 _Ravian rolled his eyes. "You forget who's older."_

 _Lorelei shrugged. "You forget who's better."_

 _Corin came up beside the two, smiling down at Lorelei. "That was awesome, sis. Maybe you could teach me a few things."_

 _Lorelei placer a ginger on her chin, stroking her skin pensively. "Well, both of you should take off your shoes." She said, pointing to the leather on each of the boy's feet. "They're such a hindrance."_

 _Corin and Ravian looked at each other, and then at their younger sister who batted her lashes. "Try it?" She pleaded. "For me?"_

 _The two boys looked at each other and sighed. "Fine." In unison, they both reluctantly took off their shoes._

 _"Grass feels weird," Ravian muttered under his breath._

 _Corin nudged his brother in the side, giving him a look that Ravian simply rolled his eyes at. "Just go with it."_

 _"Now go long." The girl smirked as she tossed the icy orb up and down in her hand, giving the two boys a look. "Go on! I don't have all day!"_

 _Corin and Ravian smirked at each other, and they both took off, running as fast they could, faster than they'd been running moments ago. Lorelei chuckled the ball high into the air while the boys pushed and shoved to get the best position possible._

 _"Stop shoving, Corin!" Ravian protested as the two continued their squabble while still keeping their eyes on the ball._

 _"Stop being a baby, Ravi!" Corin retorted._

 _The two both dived for the ball of ice that was coming closer and closer to the ground. They both went face first into the dirt, and the orb of ice shattered onto the ground with no palm to catch it this time. Lorelei skated over to the two bodies that rolled over to face the blue sky, hovering over her two older brothers. "Slowpokes."_

 _Ravian was the first to stand, and he immediately looked down at his bare feet. "Well, I might just have to go barefoot more often. It makes me faster."_

 _"And apparently more violent, too." Corin chimed in, standing up and wiping the dust and dirt off of his crimson tunic. "You nearly broke my neck!"_

 _"Oh, please!" Ravian looked at Corin. "You almost sprained my ankle!"_

 _"You three! Quit bickering and come eat! It's not my fault if it gets cold!" The voice of their mother rang out through the field, and the tree looked at each other, smiling as they walked side by side towards a small cobblestone cottage they called their home._

 _/_

Ravian violently shoved Hans out of his mind and away from his body, the sensation of dizziness so strong Hans stumbled and stammered backward, leaning against a tree to keep his balance. Hans's eyes were wide as he stared at Ravian who's fists were clenched, and his face contorted in an anger Hans had never seen before, yet his red eyes were streaming tears. "How _dare_ you."

Hans ignored Ravian's broken voice as he stared at the ground, his mind racing as he frantically began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

The ice.

The memory.

The bare feet.

"Your sister..." He slowly lifted his head to look at Ravian who had somehow absorbed all the anger and hatred in the world and was directing that rage right at Hans.

"How _dare_ you."

* * *

A/N: Surprise! Yeah, yeah. I know I said I wouldn't update but...

Hehehe... everyone thought it was Corin... teeheehee... SIKE! Where's Corin? You'll have to read and find out ;) (I'm mean. I know.)

But holy cow, guys I really can't thank you enough for all the reviews and support for this story. Every review from you guys saying how much you're enjoying the story makes my day. We're almost at 1,400 views! It's crazy and I really can't thank you guys enough. Anyway, this chapter was a little shorter since I did want to get another one posted before I left for my program. Please feel free to review and tell me what you thought. See you guys in two weeks! :)


	7. Chapter 7

"How _dare you!_ "

Ravian's rage seeped into the atmosphere, and Hans could have sworn the entire forest caved in on him, that Ravian grew more than a few feet taller, but that was because the spirit was now standing in front of him, tears running down his cheeks as his crimson eyes blazed with insurmountable fury. "How _dare you!_ "

Hans gulped as hesitantly met Ravian's gaze, but he could only hold his stare for a second. Ravian's presence was simply too overwhelming. He had to look away. "You do it all the time," Hans mumbled. "I don't see the problem."

Ravian's hand grasped around the collar of Hans's tunic, and the two were suddenly inches apart from one another. Hans had gotten used to situations like this, staring up in fear at a being who could incinerate him whenever he pleased. "Because you let me see it!" Ravian shouted. "You _let me_!" Hans was forced to look into the spirit's angry eyes, but there was sadness behind the mad facade, and that sadness quickly overpowered the anger. The powerful spirit had been reduced to a broken man right before his eyes. "There are some things you just don't get to see." His sadness faded, and there was nothing shown in his eyes. No emotion. No more smugness that normally adorned Ravian's face whenever he looked at Hans.

Ravian let go of Hans's shirt, and the former prince let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. The spirit turned his back to Hans, his fist clenched as he took step after step away from the ginger. "Where are you going?" Hans jogged after the spirit who didn't respond. "Ravian, answer me."

It wasn't after more than a few steps that Ravian turned around, housing the same blank look on his face. Without even a shrug, the spirit turned his head, continuing forward and leaving the former prince behind. Hans snarled as he watched Ravian walk away. "I asked you a question, dammit!"

No response.

"So..." Hans mumbled. "This is how it's going to be..." Hans closed his eyes. If he wouldn't receive and answer, then he'd get one himself. Hans closed his eyes and searched the atmosphere. He was suddenly aware of everything all at once. His own body, the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees, the wind gently blowing the fabric of his clothes every which way.

Through it all, there was an overwhelming presence. Ravian's presence. Hans reached out for it. He could feel it drawing nearer.

And then there was pain. Every crevice of Hans's body became paralyzed and stung all at once. His eyes shot open sharply, and he met Ravian's stare from mere feet away. His heart beat fast, the fear he thought he'd pushed down suddenly came to the surface like a tsunami wave.

"Try that again and you'll regret it, I promise you."

Ravian's words resonated with Hans who only found the resolve to nod his head. He watched as Ravian disappeared into the vastness of the forest, and when he was no longer visible, Hans could finally move again. He began a trudge back into town. Maybe it wasn't smart, but he still had one more night left at the inn. Why not use it?

It took him mere minutes to return to the crowded streets of the Arendellian market. The smells of spices, bread, and body odors of all kinds made Hans want to swoon and vomit all at once. The inn lobby was just as crowded as it was earlier that day. Good. He could slip by unnoticed. He scanned the room once, sighing in relief to see he hadn't drawn any attention.

"Excuse me."

Or so he thought.

Hans turned his head, raising a brow when he saw Hannah walking towards him. "Do you have a moment?" Hans nodded. "I wanted to say thank you."

Hans's other brow raised. "For what, exactly?"

Hannah smiled. "For getting my heirloom back."

She reached into her dress pocket, revealing a necklace that she held out to Hans. "It was my father's before he passed away. I don't know what I would have done if I never saw it again."

Hans reached for the necklace which Hannah handed over to him. The chain was pure gold, and at the bottom rested a pendant in the shape of a shield with a script 'N' engraved inside. "Your father lived in Northern Isles?"

Hans's gaze shifted back to Hannah who nodded. "Yes, he was in the military there. Everyone in the military receives one of these pins, but he gave his to me. To remember him by."

Hans smiled and placed the necklace back into her hand. "Well, you're very welcome for retrieving it for you."

Hannah returned his grin before her eyes widened. "Before I forget, something came for you." She hurried off, scurrying behind the desk and proceeded to shuffle around for something in particular. She came back with an envelope sealed with the Arendelle crocus. "For you. From her Majesty."

Hans took the envelope, although he wished Ravian were there so he could burn it. "Thank you." He tried not to sound spiteful.

"You're very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day."

The woman's green eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen as she tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear to tend to a customer who was a little too drunk for the time of day. Hans chuckled to himself and headed back to his room, his eyes never leaving the envelope all the while. "What else could she possibly want?" He muttered as he trudged into to his room.

The bed was made, and everything had been cleaned thankfully. Now he could ruin it again. He flopped down on the mattress, grimacing slightly at the sturdiness of the mattress (It would take a while to get used to that), and opened the sealed envelope. Like the previous letter, it unfolded, revealing the same impeccable handwriting.

 _Corin,_

 _Considering the ball is in three days time, I was wondering if you would have time to make my sister and I cloaks similar to the one you had worn when you first arrived. We were both taken by it, and we could even provide materials if you'd like._

 _Queen Elsa of Arendelle_

The ball.

 _Shit._

Hans sighed as he threw the letter to the side and let his head fall onto the pillow as he stared up at the dull, beige ceiling. The ball was in a few days, and he had nothing to wear.

/

The chair at Jehan's desk had always been precarious. One leg had always been broken, but that didn't matter according to his father. They would be getting him a new one soon. That was what he said ten years ago and still continued to say to this very day. The precarious wooden chair was where Jehan sat, his fingers curled around a silver coin. He spun the coin around with both hands, watching it twirl around and around until it eventually fell flat, and then he would do it all over again.

His eyes shifted from the coin that laid on the wood of his desk to the side where a mirror was placed. He reluctantly stood and stood in front of the reflective glass, reflecting his very image back at him. His stubbles of red hair on his face that he needed to shave sooner or later. His figure which was slender, but he still should do more exercise than he did. His hair on top that was thick and swept to one side. His jaw which he couldn't believe had gotten so defined. His nose was too small though, and his blue eyes... well, they were fine.

He shifted his attention to his clothing, his white suit jacket lined with red and golden epaulets with a green vest with gold buttons going straight down. The matching white trousers made him look like he was going to a ball.

He audibly sighed and turned around, looking over his bed where a picture lay. A tall man in a white military outfit stood, one hand in a salute at his forehead while the other was stiff at his side. His blue eyes were so determined, so strong.

"That is the umpteenth time you've looked at that picture in the last five minutes." Jehan stepped back, startled as he turned to see a man standing by the door. His hair was pure white, and his skin was pale. His eyes were a piercing violet that could cut through steel. He wore nothing but black, his jacket was lack lined with silver whorls, and the vest he wore underneath had silver buttons going straight down the middle, and matching black trousers. On his fingers were rings and jewels the likes of which Jehan had rarely seen. The man, on the outside, was the epitome of suave, but Jehan knew to replace that word with arrogance. "You just go from that desk to that mirror and then to that picture, and then you do it aaaalllll over again."

Jehan's gaze shifted to the picture up on the wall. "I thought I told you to go and scout ahead to see if the servants were coming."

"That's just boring." The man purred, and before he knew it, he felt fingers tracing the back of his neck. The man's white hair came into view, and then his violet eyes were right in front of Jehan's blue ones, and the man's hand was on Jehan's cheek. "This is more fun."

Before Jehan could say a thing, the man's lips were on his own. Although they were soft, and Jehan had gone numb to the man's kisses long ago, something sinister still seeped through it all. Jehan hadn't realized his eyes had been closed until he opened them to find violet eyes staring at him. "You never told me who was in that picture."

Jehan broke away from the intimacy and took a step closer to the picture. "Did you ever think I didn't want you to know?"

A suave chuckle sent shivers down Jehan's spine as something trailed down his back. He turned around to see the man with a black and purple aura around himself, dark tendrils seeped from his being and crawled towards Jehan, caressing him. "You know I want to know everything about you, Jehan."

The prince shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Melody will be here today and I can't-"

"You can't what? Revel in my power for a moment longer?" The prince fell silent and simply closed his eyes. He would never admit it out loud, but having the darkness around him did feel nice. It made him feel at ease, safe. "Isn't this why you chose me in the first place?"

Jehan's breath hitched as the tendrils ran down his back. "I didn't choose _you_." He corrected. "I chose your power."

The man's chuckle was enough to send shivers down Jehan's spine. "Jehan, I _am_ power. Without me, you're just the son of a king who favors his dead firstborn."

 _Knock._

 _Knock._

 _Knock._

Jehan's eyes shot open and he glared at the man dressed all in black. He rolled his eyes and dissolved into shadow, merging with Jehan who looked in the mirror once again, sighing as he watched his eyes turn to the piercing violet he'd never admit he'd come to love. "Enter."

The door creaked open, and a servant appeared, dressed in a plain white dress, her blonde hair cascading down her back. "Your father requests your presence in his study, your Highness."

Jehan simply nodded and pushed past the servant, beginning a quick descent down the hall. He had been expecting Melody. Not his father.

 _I swear to god if it's another one of those meetings._

Jehan scoffed. "What do you know? You don't have to bare with sitting through them."

Jehan caught glances of servants as he walked. To everyone else, it seemed as if he was just talking to himself. He could have sworn they all thought he was crazy.

 _I'm with you most of the time. I have to deal with whatever you do and then some._

The prince sighed as he turned the corner, the architecture of the castle had lost its wonder long ago. Bits and pieces of it were charred, blackened and flaking off the wall. It was barely holding itself together.

 _What do you suppose he wants?_

Jehan simply shrugged. "I can't read minds like you. How should I know?"

Chatter disrupted Jehan's thoughts, giggling that was too familiar to him could be heard just around the corner. A smile crept up his lips as he picked up his pace, sighing as he turned the corner to meet the most gorgeous pair of chocolate brown eyes. The plain crimson floor-length dress she wore fitted her figure to a tee, and her hair was done in a half up half down style, framing her face like the most well-painted portrait. Jehan practically ran to the woman, chuckling as he held her waist picking her up off the ground, causing a small squeal to escape her lips.

He set her down gently, looking into her eyes. "I missed you, Mel." He mused.

His heart fluttered every time their eyes met, he couldn't bring himself to look away from her. The castle seemed brighter when she was around, everything seemed brighter when she was around. "It's certainly been a while, Jehan."

Her voice was so smooth, so pure and innocent. The prince leaned in, placing a loving kiss on her lips as she met him halfway. He felt the exchange of words that hadn't said to each other in months. What they had was real, it seemed strange to him. Normally, arranged marriages weren't known to work out, but he'd gotten too lucky. He pulled away ever so slightly, sighing dreamily, and he was met with a look.

"Don't tell anyone I did that." Jehan grinned, and a laugh escaped Melody's lips.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, and the two began to walk side by side. "So, how did things go in Sylvia?" Jehan raised a brow as he looked at his wife.

"Well, they went the same as all annual check-ups on our relationship go. My father gives me the old protective father speech, he asks how you are, and that's really it. It's quite uneventful."

Jehan shrugged. "Well, your father isn't exactly known to be the most... entertaining."

Melody scowled playfully at him. "Neither is yours."

The retort had Jehan laughing. "Point taken." Jehan met her gaze once more. "And Abigail?"

Melody turned to face Jehan, wrapping her arms around his neck, stopping the both of them from taking another step. "She's with Jaqueline back in Sylvia. Safe and sound." She hummed and placed a gentle kiss on Jehan's lips. "Buuuut she does miss her father, you know."

Jehan hummed in understanding before taking the time to place his own kiss on Melody's lips. "I miss her too. God, it's like I'm missing every one of her milestones."

Melody rolled her eyes. "You were jousting. You couldn't hear a thing underneath that helmet let alone the crowd." The two laughed, lingering in each other's holds. "Now, I hear you have to go and speak with your father?"

Jehan rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me."

Melody shrugged. "Well, good luck. I hear that your father isn't exactly known to be the most... entertaining."

"I can't believe you."

"I love you too."

The two smiled, sharing another loving kiss before Jehan broke away, holding Melody's hands. "I'll meet you in our chambers when I'm done?"

The woman nodded, tilting her head ever so slightly to look up at her husband. "I'll meet you in our chambers."

Jehan held onto her hands for as long as he possibly could before he had to break away from her. It had been months, and for her to be here was nothing short of a miracle. He walked through the halls smiling brightly, he couldn't have been happier.

The hall that harbored his father's study was darker than the rest of the castle. There were no windows, and the only door was the door that belonged to his father in the whole wing. The rest of the walls were adorned with paintings, and the door to his father's study was pure white, not tainted in any way. Innocent.

It was the most ironic thing Jehan had ever seen. He took one last breath before pushing open the door, but instead of seeing his brother, he saw another man standing in front of his father's desk, his hands on his hips.

The man's head turned to face Jehan, his brown eyes met the prince's with an emotion he couldn't quite place. He was dressed in a regal suit similar to Jehan's. He was cleanly shaved, no stubbles on his face whatsoever, although his build was much lankier than Jehan's who's form was more toned. "What are you doing here?" The man questioned. "Where's father?"

Jehan rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I was going to ask you the same thing. He summoned me."

"Well, he summoned me too."

"Quiet. The both of you."

Both men's heads turned to the doorway where King Charlemagne emerged. His face was set in annoyance as he circled the room to sit in the velvet chair to face his sons.

"Do you need something from us, father?" Jehan inquired.

Charles scoffed. "If I didn't need something from you, Jehan, I wouldn't have called you in here, now would I?"

Jehan clenched the inside of his jaw, and the boy next to him spoke up. "What do you need, father?"

"I'm glad someone is finally asking the right questions." He grumbled, reaching into his desk drawer, and revealed a piece of parchment paper sealed with the crocus of Arendelle. "This is an invitation to Arendelle's summer festival. The invitation specifies you, Jehan." The prince nodded, but he knew there was more. "But I'm sending you with a plus one."

Both boys spoke in unison. "What?"

"I don't need a plus one." Jehan growled. "I am perfectly capable of going on my own."

"He's not capable of doing anything." The other protested. "Send me. I-"

"Let. Me. Finish." Charles flared at the both of them. "Both of you should understand. After the mess that disgrace made over there, I will not take chances. As the two oldest of this family, you will both represent your kingdom. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"No."

Charles and Jehan both looked to the other boy. "No?" The king chuckled softly. "My dear Roger, are you defying me?"

Roger stepped towards his father, placing his hand firmly on the desk. "I'm nobody's second." He hissed. "Especially not his." Roger glared at Jehan. "

Charles rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to be his second, I am asking you to accompany your older brother on a diplomatic mission."

"So you're asking me to be his second." Roger corrected. "Absolutely not. Unlike him, I still have dignity."

"And what in the world is that supposed to mean?" Jehan snarled.

"You know exactly what it means." The two boys faced each other, anger clear in both of their eyes. "You power hungry, conniving little snake."

"Jealous brat."

"I wish you'd end up dead just as he did."

"Enough!" Charles's dominant voice quieted the bickering of the two boys immediately. Began had never seen such fury in his father's eyes. "Roger, get. Out."

The boy left without hesitation, knocking into Jehan's shoulder. Jehan shook his head and turned leave. He knew what he had to do. They were done there.

"Jehan, stay for a minute." The Prince turned back towards his father who had pulled out a large stack of papers and a fountain pen, and with diligence, he began signing every single one. "Do you know why I threw Hans into the ocean, Jehan?"

The prince clenched his jaw as he watched his father. "No." He answered. "No, I don't."

"I did it because I could."

Jehan's expression remained emotionless, but the king's words had lit something inside of him. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. "What do you mean?"

Charles didn't take his eyes away from the papers in front of him. "He was weak." He said simply. "He was a disgrace and he was weak, so over the side of the boat he went."

Jehan crosses his arms, digging his nails into his arms. "And you don't care?"

Charles stopped his writing, looking into Jehan's eyes. "Why should I?"

"Because." Jehan spat. "He's your son."

"He is not my son. He is a disgrace. A problem."

Jehan watched his father go back to his work until a thought crossed his mind. His father didn't seem bothered at all. "What if it was me, father?" He spoke through gritted teeth. "What if it was me? Would you have thrown me overboard too?"

Charles barely acknowledged him. "It wasn't you. That answer is frivolous."

Jehan simply chuckled. "You are unbelievable, father." Jehan hissed. "You don't even care."

Charles visibly stiffened, but kept on writing, moving all of his signed papers to one side. "Leave, Jehan."

"No. You really, really don't care, do you?" Anger seeped into Jehan's voice. "You would leave your own sons to die just because thy disgraced you?"

Charles heaved a frustrated sigh. "Jehan..."

"In all honesty, father, what kind of example did you think you were trying to set for the rest of us? What did you hope to accomplish?!"

"I did what I had to do to remove a stubborn stain on our family. And why are you so quick to defend that traitor? I don't recall you having any attatchment to him. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"I don't have to have an attachment to him, but he's still my brother, and he's still your son."

"That disgrace is not my son."

Jehan's brows furrowed in anger. "You didn't used to be like this."

Charles stopped his pen in its tracks. "Out, Jehan. Now."

Jehan didn't move an inch. "You didn't used to be like this before he died." With that, the prince took the invitation from his father's desk and walked quickly to the door, reaching for the handle before his father's words cut through the silence.

"If you want it to be you, then fail." Charles hissed. "Fail in you mission to reconcile with the Queen, then com back home and I'll let you suffer the same fate he did."

Jehan looked over his shoulder, meeting his father's firey eyes. Jehan scoffed once before pushing open the door, slamming it shut behind him, and leaving the room and his father behind.

He felt another presence inside of him. A wave of fatigue washed over him, and the next thing he knew, the man dressed in black was walking at his side, his hands clasped regally behind his back. "Well, didn't that go marvelously well?" Jehan shot him a glare, and the white-haired man chuckled. "Just trying to find a little humor in things."

Jehan scoffed. "There's no humor in throwing your own son off a boat."

The man circled around to Jehan's front, taking both of his shoulders. His touch was soothing, yet there was that underlying darkness Jehan couldn't shake. "What is going through your head?"

Jehan stayed stoic but raised a brow. "Don't you already know that?"

The man shrugged. "I wanted to see if you would tell me first, but I guess that was out of the question."

The man's face inched closer to Jehan who closed his eyes, praying that there was no one else around as he felt the man's soft lips on his own. The softness pressed itself against him again and again in an almost loving way, until Jehan pulled back slightly, looking into the man's violet eyes. "Are you all like this?"

The man raised a brow. "Whatever do you mean?"

Jehan gave the man a once-over. "I mean..."

The man hummed softly and broke away, beginning to walk alongside the Prince. "Yes." He answered. "It's common to prefer our masters if that's what you're asking."

The two went back to simply walking side by side in silence until they reached the door to Jehan's chambers. "Go and entertain yourself. The market has some fine jewels I think."

The man sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. "If you say so." He purred. "I'll be back soon." His voice was sing-song as darkness and shadow surrounded him, when the dark dispersed, the man was nowhere to be found.

Jehan let his gaze linger on where the man had been for a moment before entering his room again, relief washing over him as he saw Melody sitting patiently on the bed. "How did it go?" She asked softly, rising from the mattress.

Jehan ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the door, his eyes closed. "It's my father." He murmured. "It went as well as you would expect it to."

The woman made a small noise, and Jehan felt her fingers begin to creep up his arm, to his shoulder, his neck, then his cheek. He opened his eyes to see her face mere inches in front of him, and subconsciously, his hands fell to her waist. "Well, maybe I can make you feel better." She cooed.

Jehan was the one that closed the gap between the two of them. His eyes shut as her fingers began to rake through his hair, massaging his scalp. It was as relaxing as it was pleasure-inducing. Erotic, addicting, and innocent all at once. Jehan felt his hand press a bit harder into the small of her back. A soft noise came from Melody as their bodies came closer, and their lips pressed harder, passionately against one another. "I'm supposed to go to Arendelle." He murmured as he began to trail kisses along her neck. Melody's only reply was another soft moan. "My father wants me to bring a plus one." He lifted his head slightly, their lips meeting again for a moment before he pulled away, only to see her smile, beaming at him. Nothing could have made him happier.

"Of course." She breathed.

Jehan smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her before he jolted slightly, gasping as he felt her hand, massaging, squeezing between his legs. He swallowed once as her face came closer to his. "Now," She cooed, her voice seductively sweet. "Where were we?"

/

"I always forget how c-c-c-cold it is u-u-up here somet-t-t-times." Anna chattered, rubbing her hands against her arms for heat. Even with Kristoff's arm around her, she still couldn't find a way to warm herself up.

Kristoff chuckled softly. "Well, maybe next time, you should bring a coat." He advised. "Just a friendly suggestion."

Elsa covered her mouth with her hand, fighting a snicker, an Anna gave her a playful scowl. "Yeah, laugh it up, person who can never get cold."

Elsa shrugged as she looked toward her sister. "Well, Kristoff is right. You really should have brought a coat."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Stinker.."

Kristoff smiled at the interaction between the two while Elsa seemed to be off in her own world. She looked at the ground and her hands. There was someone like her, and that person had to be Hans. Had he always had that power? Had he just kept it hidden all this time? She looked up at the sky, where the multicolored lights shimmered brightly, looking down upon her, guiding her towards the answers she needed so desperately. She faced forward, taking a breath. Although the surrounding rocks, dirt, and mud wasn't necessarily where she enjoyed spending most of her time, it was beautiful in its own way that she'd come to appreciate. Kristoff's family was helpful, and they'd help plenty before.

They passed geysers sprouting steam, warm steam that was too warm for Elsa, which was why she stayed far away from them, and Hans's flame. She wanted nothing to do with it heat. With warmth. She jolted slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder, turning her head to see her sister smiling softly at her. "Hey, it's going to be alright." She reassured her. "Pabbie is going to give us some answers, and everything is going to be fine. We'll have it all settled before the ball happens."

Elsa gave her a look. "How can you be so optimistic? He's dangerous, Anna. He wants to kill us."

"And he'll have to go through me." The redhead declared. "He's not going to kill you. Or me. Or Kristoff. Or Olaf." Anna blinked. "Well, Olaf technically can't die unless you make him... that's a bad thought... but still." She forced herself back on track. "I'm telling you it's going to be okay."

Elsa gave her a warm smile, gently placing a hand on top of her sister's. A rock rolled towards them, and both sister's and Kristoff grinned as it popped open, revealing two eyes and a nose, hair seemingly made of straw, and a magenta necklace of glowing stones around her neck. Her front was covered by a shirt made of moss, and Elsa was simply glad it wasn't her wearing the piece of fabric. "Kristoff's home!" She called in a sweet voice before she bowed. "Your Majesties." The rock troll looked back once at the collection of other rocks around her. "It's nap time for most of them."

Anna giggled and shook her head. "That's fine, Bulda. We're sorry for interrupting." She said. "Where's Pabbie?"

A second rock rolled, cruising against the gravel underneath before its circular figure expanded into another troll-like figure. It was older, this one, walking with a slightly hunched back, or rock, and a necklace of glowing green-yellow around it. It also had a mos-covered front, along with a cape made of grass. "Princess Anna, Kristoff." Pabbie turned to Elsa, giving her a warm smile. "Queen Elsa."

Elsa knelt down to the troll's eyes level, and the troll took her hands in his own. it brought back memories, certainly not fond ones, but his hands were still as smooth as ever. "Pabbie." She said almost nostalgically.

The troll chuckled. "You've grown so much my dear." He mused, and Elsa shook her head.

"We can catch up later, but I have some questions for you."

The troll's face instantly fell. "I'm aware, my child." He rasped. "And I'm sad to say that I cannot tell you."

Kristoff stiffened, Elsa raised a brow, and Anna knelt down in front of the troll. "What do you mean you don't know?" She asked. "You're supposed to know everything."

Pabbie shook his head. "I know many things, my dear, but I cannot tell you why, or how Hans received the power he did."

Elsa frowned, nodding slightly. Her hope had just been dashed, thrown away. The only source of knowledge they had didn't know-

"But," The troll continued. "If you brought him to me, then maybe I could tell you."

Elsa's eyes went slightly wide, and she shook her head. "No, that's alright." She replied quickly. "We'll find another way." She rose from her kneeling position, turning, but she didn't get far as she felt a hand clench around her wrist.

"What are you talking about?" Anna's voice. "He's telling us he can figure it out."

Elsa shook her head, turning to face her sister. "It's a maybe, Anna. And I don't want to risk their lives because I have questions."

Pabbie shook his head. "We have precautions, Queen Elsa." He informed her. "You don't have to worry about us." Elsa bit her lip. She couldn't bring Hans here. She didn't want to. Dread rose up inside of her as she replayed the day in her head. The fire. The flames. "And you don't have to be scared."

Elsa's head turned towards Pabbie who gave her a sympathetic smile. He always seemed to know what he was thinking, and if he didn't have anything to worry about, then why should she? "We'll bring him to you." She said. "Hopefully soon."

Pabbie nodded. "We're not going anywhere." the troll replied.

Elsa smiled and looked to Anna who was now standing, gazing at Elsa with a goofy grin on her face. "We should just bring Pabbie to the castle." the redhead suggested. "He could convince you to do anything." Elsa gave her a look, and Anna corrected herself. "Well, almost anything."

"Thank you, Pabbie." Kristoff said, bending down and scooping the troll into his arms.

"Thank you for coming, my boy. I'll see you soon." Kristoff stood to his full height and waved, turning his back to his home.

"Kristoff!" Bulda called, causing the tall blonde to turn around. "Don't forget to shower!"

Red crept up Kristoff's cheeks, and he quickly turned his head away to Bulda's howling laughter. He buried his face in his hands before he felt someone nudge at his shoulder. He looked up just slightly to see Anna grinning at him. "I know you shower." She said, pecking his cheek quickly.

Kristoff turned crimson, and Elsa laughed. "You'll have a room soon, you two."

This time, it was Anna's turn to blush and Elsa shook her head, smiling up at the lights in the sky.

 _Let me out!_

Pain suddenly swept through her, stinging and sharp. It burned, but she fought against it, suppressing it. Whatever it was.

 _Let me out!_

The pain continued through her, making her arms numb, her chest. it kept seeping downwards until she'd had enough. With the strength she had left, she froze it. THe feeling, the voice. Put a cage around it, trapping it within her mind, a frozen cage that no one could escape from, and the pain stopped. The feeling returned in her arms and in her chest, and she let out a breath of relief.

Until the voice spoke again.

 _You're going to pay._

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, guys! I know it's been a while. I've barely had any time to write at all, but I really wanted to get this one out. I don't know when the next chapter will be out since I have school, but I'm alive, and I am going to continue this story and see it through until the end, don't worry. I hope you enjoyed it, tell me what you thought in a review, and I'll see you guys next time. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

The streets of Arendelle were alive with anticipation and excitement. Lights and laurels decorated every inch of town, people ran in and out of shops preparing to look their best or have enough in stock to last through the entire week. The festival had crept up on everyone faster than they all could have imagined. All they had to do was blink, and the first night was upon them.

"Isn't this exciting?" Anna beamed against the railing of the balcony, turning her head to find her sister smiling as well. "This is the first _real_ party we've had in a long time. I can't wait. There's going to be soup, roast, and ice cream! There'll be dancing! Music! Elsa, come on!" The redhead took her sister's hands and spun her around. "It's going to be magical."

Elsa giggled and turned her head toward the town, still holding her sister's hand. "It will be." Her lips then curled into a slight frown at the sight of boats coming in. She hadn't told Anna about the guest list, she'd debated ever since her meeting with the council on whether she should or not. She glanced at her sister's glowing blue eyes, latching onto the everlasting hope and happiness in them Elsa had vowed to never shatter again, but there was nothing wrong with a heads up, right? Her lips parted, and her fingers subconsciously tightened around her sister's.

"Anna, I-"

"Your majesty, your highness."

Blonde and russet heads turned to see Kai in the doorway bent at the waist in a bow. "The first round of guests has arrived."

A wide smile came onto Anna's lips. "Then what in the world are we waiting for!" She tightened her hold on Elsa's hand and bolted past Kai who only laughed. The castle itself was a blur for the sisters who reached the foyer in seconds flat.

"Who are we meeting first?" Anna straightened out her olive summer dress, taming her hair which was done in a pair of braids.

"I'm not quite sure," Elsa replied, her posture regal and composed as she watched the door. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Anna nodded as the doors opened, and her eyes went wide. Elsa's jaw set. She hadn't been expecting them so soon.

Emerging from the doorway was a man who boasted auburn hair that was painfully familiar. His build was toned and strong, elegance and power all combined. His white suit and the gold attached to it in the form of epaulets and linings had him glimmering. The woman by his side looked even more beautiful. Her dark hair cascaded down past her shoulder in luscious waves. Her emerald eyes were brighter than any star and held more depth than the ocean, and her skin was flawless.

 _Do people like that really exist?_ Anna thought as the examined the woman. _Why is she allowed to have curves too?_ Her eyes narrowed. _And why does he look like Hans?_

"Jehan." Elsa greeted with an obvious strain in her voice. "Melody."

The red-haired man broke away from the woman by his side, approaching Elsa with a tranquil smile. "Queen Elsa." He bowed respectfully toward the Queen. It was the type of gesture Anna had only ever seen knights who'd pledged their lives to the country give. "It's an honor to be here. If I'll be blunt, I'm rather surprised after the fiasco with my brother. I'm thankful you've decided to give the Southern Isles a second chance."

Epiphany hit Anna like a slap in the face. This was one of Hans's brothers. Her eyes raked over him, her mind burned with questions, and also anger.

 _So he's not sorry for the fiasco that happened days ago? I swear to God! Everyone from that place is just... Aggrrhhh! It's so frustrating! I mean, really! How hard is it to know where your brother is? I know where Elsa is all the time... well, most of the time... and at least she isn't a psychopath who-_

"Princess." She startled at her own name. Watching him straighten, she realized he'd been groomed for just this, diplomacy just as Elsa had been. There was something too natural about the way he spoke, the way he held himself. He could have been playing the both of them just like Hans had and they'd be none the wiser.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Jehan picked up on the hesitancy in her voice, holding his hand out to the woman beside him who took it gratefully.

"This is my wife, Melody." The woman curtsied.

"It's a pleasure. It's my first time in Arendelle, it truly is lovely."

Anna wanted to scowl at the woman, she wanted to question everything about her, everything about them. She had the unnecessary urge to tackle Jehan to the ground and make him pay for actions that weren't his own. _He's not Hans..._ Although the reminder was frequent, it was still difficult to hold to all the same.

"I can see the castle all the way from here, Queen Elsa, perched on the North Mountain." Jehan spoke, snapping Anna out of her strangely violent thoughts, but the content of the sentence had her eyes narrowing even more. _Go ahead,_ she snarled to herself, _call her a freak. I dare you._ "It truly is beautiful. I hope I get to witness your magic in person."

Anna's jaw would have gone slack if it weren't for decency. _He's... nice?_

Anna caught Elsa smiling, seemingly coming to the same realization she had. "Thank you, I'd be glad to show you a few things as long as you're here."

Anna's gaze darted between the two of them, eventually settling on Jehan, on his eyes. Violet. Exotic and bright violet. His brow quirked up at her, and Anna immediately turned her gaze away. _Did he catch me staring...?_

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Princess." Jehan chuckled.

 _He caught me staring..._

The red-head brought her eyes back up to Jehan. _He's tall too..._

"I was born with a mutation." He explained. "They change. They're normally blue, but they have a mind of their own." He sighed. "The doctors never could quite figure out what to do, so they just left it alone."

Anna gazed at him warily but nodded at the explanation. The purple hue itself seemed to smile at her laugh at her.

"My staff will take you to your chambers." Elsa's eyes darted between the two of them. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

The four, or rather three since Anna didn't contribute much, said their goodbyes, and the couple was walking across the room, turning right, and they were gone.

Anna continued to greet the guests along with her sister, unable to still shake her unease away about the Prince from the Southern Isles.

/

"You never told me why." Melody's curious tone had Jehan chuckling.

"You just never asked."

"I have to. You would just never tell me. You'd always say let's go out for a ride, or let me read you something."

A bright sigh left Jehan. "Guilty as charged."

The couple locked eyes with one another, wordless love passing between the air. It was these moments Jehna realized how lucky he truly was. The arranged marriage that had bound him to Melody hadn't been their any of their ideas, but they'd come to love each other. It certainly helped that both of them found one another attractive.

"I could never talk like this with my brothers." Jehan's fingers intertwined themselves with his wife's who gladly reciprocated.

"What do you mean?"

"They were just so... stupid."

Melody laughed brightly. "Well, most men are like that."

"How could you know? You didn't grow up with any of them."

"Maybe not, but I married someone who's surrounded by too many."

Jehan smiled, and inversely, Melody's smile vanished as her lips pressed into a hard line. "Speaking of... are you worried about him?"

The prince quirked a brow. "Who?"

"Hans?"

Silence.

"Why would I be?"

Melody scowled. "Because he was thrown off a boat by your own father."

Again, Jehan said nothing, and the woman stopped their descent down the hall, stepping in between him and the rest of the corridor. Her eyes were soft now, pleading. "Why do you hate him? He did nothing to you."

Jehan looked away, unable to meet the woman's eyes. "I don't know."

"Liar."

"I. Don't. Know."

Silence. Again.

"Will you tell me later?"

Jehan met her eyes, hesitating before he spoke, "Yes."

"Do you promise?"

Without hesitation, "I promise."

They continued their stroll, and the spirit inside of Jehan cackled all the way to their room.

/

Hans looked worse than he'd originally imagined. Maybe he hadn't had a decent shower in days, maybe he wasn't as well fed as he used to be, maybe he'd gotten a little thinner, but this? This was a disaster.

The mirror didn't lie, but that didn't mean the former prince had to like the truth he saw. His hair was still long, down to his jaw unruly and had specks of dirt practically embedded into it from his lack of hygiene. The shirt he'd borrowed as a substitute since Ravian's magic had worn off, was so brown it looked like it was painted in mud. He felt disgusting even being near it let alone wearing it.

His sideburns were the only thing that remained semi-groomed. It took them a while to grow out anyway, but his chin and jaw had started to develop a full-grown beard so thick he could barely see the outline of his face.

He closed his eyes, forcing his fingers through his tangled copper mane. God, he looked homeless. Although it wasn't too far off.

The room suddenly felt bigger, quieter than normal. Even with the shouts coming from the outside concerning decorating and preparing the town for the ball, it felt lonely. He didn't want to admit why even though he knew the answer. It was just him desperate for someone else. It certainly wasn't that he missed Ravian.

The man was a complete egomaniac, self-centered in every sense of the word. While he might have dressed nice, that was the only good thing about him. it wasn't how his laugh filled the room, how those eyes looked at him with an intensity he'd only ever seen with his father, but it was different with him. It _felt_ different in a way Hans couldn't describe, and for someone who'd once been so adept in language, he became frustrated that he couldn't find the right word. It would bug him all day long.

He opened his eyes, and immediately stumbled back as the first thing he saw was black. He blinked rapidly, and the full picture began to reveal itself to him. The black he'd seen were eyes, a familiar desolate abyss. Long haggled grey hair, horrific posture, and a menacing aura. Wrinkled, dirt-covered skin. The aura of magic that surrounded her was undeniable and unmistakable.

The Maker.

Hans's eyes frantically shifted to the tall figure behind her. He had the same narrowed eyes, those carmine eyes that he'd been thinking about moments ago. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was in a new outfit. A thin scarlet undershirt accented the bulging muscle underneath, and a crimson vest lined with whorls of gold in sporadic patterns covered the rest of his chest, along with long pants of the same golden and darkened red.

The spirit's look was impeccable as always, but his view of the man was soon cut off by the Maker, shifting forward in an unnatural way. Hans blinked and she was in front of him, staring him down with no trace of a soul in her eyes. "You _dare_ hurt my child?!" The woman shrieked, her bony fingers gripping around Hans's neck.

She didn't squeeze, but he could feel the threat of magic building in her palm. " _Apologize_!"

The prince looked at Ravian who was staring at him coldly, giving him nothing at all. He forced himself to meet the woman's eyes, but he had to look away. There was nothing to look at. "I'm sorry..." He managed through the pounding of his heart. he felt the sweat pooling at his hairline. Everything seemed to cave in on him. The world began to spin, and the woman's voice was the only thing he could hear.

"I would do anything for my children." Her voice held more threats than any sword. "And whoever dares to hurt them will suffer, do you understand me?"

Hans could only give a meek nod, and the woman's fingers released his neck. He fell to his knees, body trembling.

When he finally found his composure and looked up, ready to face the darkness of the woman's eyes, he only found Ravian's sunkissed skin, then his eyes peering down at him like a master would his slave. "You look awful."

Hans didn't know how to reply. Ravian had just gone and told on him like a child at recess and that was all he had to say? He bit his lip and rose hesitantly from the ground. "Yes. Well, in no part thanks to you."

The two locked eyes and Ravian tilted his head back laughing. "You should have seen your face! You were _terrified_!"

Hans's eyes rolled into the back of his head on their own. Some form of normalcy came over the pair again, and Hans was grateful for that much. "You're a prick."

"Maybe." The spirit shrugged, "But at least I look good. You, on the other hand, look like you just got run over by a heard of cows who couldn't hold their shit in."

"You're helping so much. First you bring your demon of a mother here to threaten me and now you say I look like horse shit."

"I brought her here because you needed to learn a lesson." Ravian's hands went limp at his sides as he approached Hans. "You got away with too much as a prince, disrespecting others included. I won't let you disrespect me. I gave you power, I gave you what you wanted. I just want respect in return."

"So reciprocation?" Hans countered. "If you get to look at my thoughts, I get to look at yours."

"I do so with permission," Ravian growled. "I told you that I see only what is at the forefront of your mind. I go no deeper than that unless you let me. Memories like the one you saw... they don't belong to you. Maybe I would have shared it with you when the time came, but that wasn't that time."

Ravian clapped his hands on Hans's shoulders. "Now enough. It's time to get you ready. You have a ball in a few hours and this is going to take some time. Now sit."

The spirit pushed Hans until his knees hit the bedframe, forcing the former prince to sit. With a wave of his hand, the spirit had Hans's hair back to its normal, clean-cut self. It was shorter, not a strand of hair out of place, and it was somehow cleaner too. Hans didn't question it, but he raised a brow as Ravian came closer.

With another flourish, a dagger had found its way into Ravian's hand.

"What on earth are you doing with that?" Hans's jaw clenched as one hand gripped the sheets while the other curled into a tight fist.

"Will you relax? I'm going to clean that disgusting beard."

The next thing Hans knew, Ravian was close.

Too close.

The former prince was being straddled, the spirit's hips resting against Hans's own, tan fingers holding the former prince's jaw in one hand and the dagger in the other. His throat bobbed as Ravian's fingers lifted Hans's chin, exposing the underside of his neck.

"Is this necessary?" Hans breathed, for a moment savoring the scent of vanilla on the man before him. It was strangely intoxicating, yet overbearing at the same time. He'd never felt so powerless in his life, not even on the fjord. Even while getting punched in the face by the Princess, he still had dignity. Now, he felt bare. Completely naked with Ravian only centimeters away from him. Hans shivered as Ravian's concentrated breath tickled his neck, and the cool blade of the dagger made its first run through the unruly beard.

"Yes." Ravian's voice was low and smokey, a luxurious contrast when compared to the brightness of his laughter and appearance overall. "I don't want it all gone, Hans. I think you'd look rather nice with a faint outline. Believe me, you'll thank me when I'm done."

Hans's heart pounded in his chest. The proximity, the implied intimacy of it all was too difficult for him to comprehend, but there was nothing else to do but focus on it. Occasionally, he caught sight of Ravian's strong jaw, clenched in casual focus. His breaths were still warm against his neck, and the fresh mint that seeped into the aroma around him was infuriating. Was it a crime to find it the slightest bit alluring? He could imagine the outrage of his father if he'd heard such thoughts.

The former prince tilted his head away in an attempt to escape whatever he feared might overcome him. He didn't for sure know what it was, but it was there, something deep down, a spark only Ravian could ignite.

Fingers suddenly clenched around his jaw, turning his face back to where it was. His eyes were forced to meet those of the spirit. "Stop moving," Ravian mumbled, causing Hans's throat to bob again. "Do you want to go to that ball with a battle scar on your neck?"

Hans settled for tilting only his eyes away. "It would hardly scar." He protested. "You'd barely knick me."

The spirit hummed. "Did your tutors never teach you anatomy, my prince?"

Those words. Something about those words sent a fire through Hans more intense that Ravian's flames.

"Some very important veins are in your neck. That's why people slice at it."

The sentence was simple, but the way he said it was disarming. "That's not anatomy, that's common sense, but you wouldn't do it on purpose."

The knife stopped against Hans's beard. "Then you don't know me."

Hans was silent as Ravian resumed his grooming. "I would if you gave me a reason to."

There was nothing else said between them, and about an agonizing ten minutes later, Ravian backed away. "Have a look." He motioned toward the mirror with a smug, almost triumphant look on his face.

Hans eyed him suspiciously, but rose, happy to be rid of the spirit's weight as he walked in front of the mirror.

Pleasant surprise crept up onto his face. Ravian was right, he did look rather dashing. The outline made him look a bit older, more regal in a way he never thought he'd look. It framed his jaw perfectly as if each hair had been stitched on by a master seamstress.

"Alright, no more gawking. We still haven't gotten to the best part yet."

Hans turned his head to face Ravian, but the spirit's eyes were on him, rather on his figure. A sight that once again made Hans's strangely aware of how his figure. That pensive look was always a sight, even though it was one he rarely saw.

Ravian suddenly straightened, taming his black textured hair. "Face me." He commanded with a tone that forbade defiance.

Hans did as he was told, and the spirit held his hand outstretched, chuckling to himself. "Just wait, your Highness. Every woman in that room will be swooning when I'm done with you."

Hans opened his mouth to protest, but the breath and the words left him as fire enveloped his vision. He was suddenly at the center of a hurricane of flames, and out of pure terror, he shut his eyes, curling his fingers tightly around his pants.

"Relax." He heard Ravian's voice from beyond the flames. It was calming, the type of assuagement he'd needed at that very moment. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hans suddenly realized he wasn't being burned alive. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, but even if the flame wasn't charring him to death, watching it flicker around him chaotically was too much. He shut his eyes again, but let his shoulders relax, then his arms, and then the rest of his body. His arms went limp at his sides, and thought he heard Ravian's approval from the other side of the red abyss.

He could feel the fabric on him shifting, changing and altering, sometimes disappearing. He felt lighter with each adjustment, yet heavy with power, with pride and attention. Everything he desired was present in the flames, in what was taking place inside of them. He wanted to voice an appreciation or something, but no words could come from his mouth. Not yet.

As soon as they came, the flames were gone, but Hans was too afraid to open his eyes. It was only Ravian's ecstatic laughter that had forced one eye open. The smile on the spirit's face was brighter than his fire. It was more egotistical than the rest of his disposition. "I think this is my best work yet."

Hans's other eye complied out of curiosity, and he turned to face the mirror again, this time, it wasn't surprise on his face, it was utter astonishment.

The suit jacket itself was black velvet, cut at the waist to put an emphasis on his strong waist. On the surface were a myriad of laurels and whorls in a crimson color that sparkled and glimmered when the light hit it just right. The lapels of the jacket were the same shade of crimson, and the golden epaulets on the shoulders added the power and luxury of gold. The vest that had somehow made its way onto Hans was black, but upon reaching to touch it, was softer than any animal skin that had ever been used as a carpet or rug. The trousers were black as well, bearing the crimson accouterments of the jacket.

What pulled the rest of the outfit together was the cravat tied against his neck. The burgundy shade was too rich, too expensive looking even for a prince, hell, even a king. The material was the purer than silk. He wasn't even sure if it had a name. it was fantastical, _magical_. Everything about this outfit was just...

"Do you like it?"

Hans's eyes cut to Ravian who looked like he'd just won the joust of the century. He stood straight with his hands on his hips, an expectant look in his eyes.

"It's.." Hans could barely find the words. "It's very nice."

Ravian tilted his head back in laughter. "Your face says it more than very nice. I'm glad you like it." The spirit walked toward Hans, straightening out the former prince's jacket and pants. "You look like you were never exiled."

That earned the spirit an eye roll.

"Don't be so fragile, it's a compliment."

The spirit's grin grew wider. "Now, all we need are these..."

Another flourish from Ravian's hand and three cloaks, ones of ice blue, fuschia, and olive green appeared stacked in Hans's arm. He clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what, or rather who they were for.

"And you're ready."

* * *

To all the people who reviewed asking for an update, here it is! Lol!

 **Important A/N:**

Okay, first of all, hi! Lol I know it's been a while. School has been absolutely kicking my butt. Luckily it's about to wind down and summer is about to start. Another update most likely won't come until school is over. (The ball is going to be so fun by the way teeheeheeeeeee prepare yourselves.)

Anyway, while that's just a heads up, I have a more important announcement concerning the story. I've been thinking it over, and while this was meant to be a Helsa story when I first got the idea for it, I'm not sure if it's going to go that way anymore. Seeing the characters develop has made me realize that, while Elsa and Hans have a very interesting dynamic that I like to work with, I'm not sure if it will be romantic. Take it, it might just be a very very _very_ slow burn, but I'm not quite sure. I'll have some more clarification on that in the next chapter or maybe a few chapters from now.

I hope you enjoyed that chapter! And thanks for putting up with the delay!

P.S. If I were to have fanart of this story drawn, it would totally be this scene with Ravian shaving Hans. That was one of the scenes I'd had planned for a while and it was probably the scene I was most excited to write


	9. Chapter 9

"Isn't it a lovely night for a ball, Hans?" Ravian twirled around in the streets with his arms outstretched. The spirit took in a large breath of fresh Arendellian air. "Look at the stars, and the moon is full and bright..."

"And you're being as incessantly annoying as ever.."

The two turned to look at each other, and Ravian was the first to laugh as he trailed his fingers through his own black hair that had been combed through. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You're clearly tense."

Hans's gaze shifted to the ground. "Why shouldn't I be?"

How could he go in there? Really, was there any way to go about it without feeling nauseous? The consequences for coming into this kingdom once were enough to deter any sane person from ever coming back. What he wouldn't give for the days back then, when he was living as second, or rather thirteenth to his brothers, where he wasn't on the run and living in a land he was supposed to be steering clear from.

"But back then you didn't have me."

He was right. Back then, Hans hadn't had power. He hadn't had Ravian.

He glanced back at the spirit who looked a little too underdressed for Hans's liking. He wore only an open scarlet vest embroidered with gold, letting anyone and everyone lay eyes on his bare chest and midsection (which wasn't an awful sight, but Hans would never say it out loud), and a pair of baggy trousers that were cinched at the ankle in a matching hue.

"You can't possibly be going like that."

"Hans, it's only for one night! And I've been fairly modest up until now."

"Mhm, but this one night happens to be a very big one. I want you to change."

"Well, I don't want to. I happen to like Agrabah's fashion."

Hans rolled his eyes. There would be no fighting with the spirit now only because they didn't have the time. He clenched the three cloaks tightly as they came closer to the castle, all the while dodging and maneuvering their way through bunches of people, through children running freely from cart to cart in search of food or toys to pass the time, husbands and wives holding each other and gazing at one another with a fervor only lovers could.

"Maybe you'll meet someone tonight Hans," The fire spirit cooed, nudging the Prince's shoulder with his own. "I have a particular Snow Queen in mind."

The exiled Prince scoffed. "You didn't see that look she gave me in the forest.. she wants nothing to do with me." He bit his lip, looking around at the others making their way to meet Arendelle's royalty.

It was similar to what he'd witnessed on his last endeavor there. Long dresses, tailored suits, but one thing was different.

Masks.

"I forgot it was a masquerade..." Ravian grumbled, sighing, and grinning. "Looks like I'll be having more fun tonight."

Hans knew that look. The look of a schemer.

The spirit brought his hands behind his back. "No one will be able to ignore you now, my Prince."

Hans gulped as Ravian pulled from behind his back a newly created mask. It was red to match the undertones of the suit, but it shimmered. It sparkled even in the moon light and had traces of silver, gold, and black. It pulled it all together, like the suit was made for the mask and vice versa. "Thank you.." He reached carefully for it, afraid he'd break it if he held it too tightly. He adjusted it onto his face, glad that it only covered his eyes to give him room to breath.

"Now you're ready." The spirit smiled in a way Hans could only call endearing as the man put his own mask on. It was gold, and demanded attention in the same way Hans's did. The two of them must have been a sight to everyone around them, an ethereal and regal pair of gold, black, and red, a walking horizon with undertones of mischief.

"Invitation, please."

Hans almost jumped as he turned toward the doors of the castle, locking eyes with the soldier guarding the entrance. They were here? Already? His hands began to tremble as he handed the man the invitation. The guard eyed the signature at the bottom, and after confirming that it was, in fact, the Queen's, he motioned to the interior. "Welcome to the Summer Ball. Enjoy yourselves."

Hans and Ravian nodded in unison, and the two walked in together into the sea of luxury, color, and noise.

The air was warmer, and smelled of sharp perfume, the kind that would normally be associated with nights out, and even desperation. There was also the taunting, savory scent of food coming from the kitchen, as well as the sweet bitterness of champagne and wine being handed out as if everyone in the room were poor, dying of thirst, and needed it to survive.

Every which way he looked, there was color and glittering jewels. Pastel blues, pinks, and purples were everywhere in the form of extravagant gowns, deep emerald came up in a few men's suits. There was russet orange, yellow, pink. Such a disorganized display of hues and yet there was an underlying order to it, a reason for everyone's choice of clothing.

No one dared to shine brighter than the royal hosts.

He had a man who took a few steps to the side to thank for his view of Elsa, standing by the throne, and speaking to...

He couldn't see, and a part of him was thankful, it was just more of a reason to look at her. Her dress was white with tasteful undertones of peach, like the others he'd seen on her, it was flattering, and sequins of ice had it, had _her_ shimmering. Her mask was something to behold, glittering white with swirls of the matching peach color.

"What are you waiting for?"

Hans's turned his head to look at the spirit whose eyes were expectant and urging, taunting even. "Go and talk to her."

Hans shook his head. He couldn't. There were too many risks. Just being here was a risk. Why were they even here? "I can't, Ravian." He sighed, turning around, "We should just leave."

The spirit grabbed the Prince's wrist. "You can't leave when the Queen gives you a personal invitation," He cooed and Hans's throat bobbed, "And where else will you go?"

The truth of the words again weighed down on him. He had nowhere else, and what was the harm in enjoying the night? He'd never have it again, so why not revel in it? "Fine." He huffed as the spirit let go. "Fine, I'll talk to them and have a drink, but then we're leaving."

Ravian put his hand over his heart. "That's fine with me. Now, go. I have a night to enjoy myself." He gave the Prince a pat on the shoulder and stalked off somewhere. Hans followed the man with his eyes, landing on a tall blonde man dressed in innocent, regal blue with an ornate mask. Ravian was headed right for him. Hans rolled his eyes.

So he got to have fun while Hans was stuck with dreading anxiety? Typical.

 _Just go talk to her._

Ravian's voice in his head had Hans looked toward the spirit who was smirking with a drink in his hand. 'Go'. He mouthed.

Hans shook his head at the boy, but he did as he was told. He maneuvered his way through the few openings in the packed room, each step bringing him closer to the throne. Closer to the Queen and the Princess no doubt. His heart pounded, his palms began to sweat, and the warm air, along with the mask had him feeling light headed, like he was suffocating. The world became only the polished wood floor as he kept his head down, the smell only his own fear, the cloaks in his hands felt heavy, a bad omen that he'd ignored one too many times.

When he finally had the courage to look up, he'd made it through the sea of people and masks, and had a clear view of the Queen. The princess was at her side, dressed in a flowing shamrock green gown laced with floral patterns. Her hair was up in the same style she'd had for the coronation, but she looked tense.

His eyes flicked to the people they were speaking to.

His breath became shallow. His eyes went wide.

No. No. No. No. NO _._ Out of all the times and the places, why them? Why now?

 _What?_ Ravian's voice was comforting, concerned. _What happened?_

Hans's throat bobbed. "My brother..." He murmured, taking slow, calculated steps toward the group of three. No... four. Beside Jehan, who looked dashing in his white suit, there was a girl. Familiar ebony hair, the same shining, unavoidable presence she'd had all those years ago.

Melody...

 _Who's that?_

Hans almost jumped higher than the chandelier. "It's none of your business," The Prince grumbled, "Now can you please stop doing that? Just for a little while?"

The prince turned his head to the side, attempting to look busy, but instead he caught sight of a different man, one who was looking at him as if he were crazy. That was what he got for talking to a spirit only he could hear.

 _I'll stay out of it._

The confirmation was all Hans needed to relax, at lest as much as his mind would allow. He made his way toward the peach, the green, the white, and the lavender. "Your Majesties," The words left his mouth before he even had time to think. The four heads immediately turned to face his, and Hans locked eyes with every single one of them. He started with Jehan.

Violet meeting green. Wait..

Violet? He'd always remembered them as blue. The two stared at each other for a moment, enough for Hans to remember how tall his brother was compared to him. Each second had his brother's eyes growing more suspicious, so he flicked his own to Melody.

Peridot meeting green.

She was still as friendly as always, he could tell she hadn't changed. The one thing, however, that set her apart from years before, was the happiness in them. She looked content, like she wouldn't change a thing about her life. Hans eyes were solemn now, but he was happy for her. Happy for them as much as it pained him to see it with his own eyes.

Green met bright turquoise.

The redhead was still bright, still energetic he could tell. He wondered where that other boy had gone, the one dubbed 'Ice Master and Deliverer'. What a stupid title. Her eyes, like Jehan's, grew wary with passing second, so he flicked his gaze to the finale of the quartet.

Green met ice.

The look in her eyes wasn't as hard as it was in the forest, nor was it soft as it had been that time either. It was indifferent, he dared to even say annoyed. He had just interrupted a conversation, after all. Among royalty no less. One brow raised behind her mask. 'Get on with it' the look seemed to say, so he did. Well, Anna did for him.

"Elsa, it's that man from the inn!" She exclaimed brightly, laughing as she walked toward him.

Hans forced a smile onto his lips. Just act polite for five minutes.

He took the Princess's hand and bent at the waist, bowing as he simultaneously pressed a kiss to the top of her palm that smelled of daisies.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Princess. I didn't get a chance to properly thank you for taking care of my stay, but perhaps this will do?"

He presented her with two of the three cloaks. "One for you and the ice master," He looked toward Elsa, presenting her the one in blue. "And one for her Majesty."

Anna giggled with glee as she examined the fabric, running her hands over the smooth wool. "I should give Kristoff the pink one," She smiled at the man in front of her. "It was Corin, right?"

A muscle twitched in Hans's cheek. "Yes, Highness."

"They're lovely." Hans shifted his gaze to Elsa who was staring incredulously at the fabric. "How long did it take you?"

"A few months." Hans clasped his hands behind his back. "It was painstaking, let me tell you."

"Who is this?" Jehan's voice cut through the chatter, although it wasn't suspicious. It was genuine curiosity.

Perfect.

"I'm a humble seamstress from your Kingdom, Majesty." He bowed his head. "The outskirts."

Jehan said nothing for a moment, and only took a step toward Hans.

He couldn't have been caught that easily... could he?

"It's a pleasure." He held his hand out, a friendly smile coming onto the face of the future King.

Hans took his brother's hand, shaking it firmly. "The pleasure's all mine."

He'd have thought this moment would feel different, finally being able to face his brother on equal footing, being able to look him in the eyes without seeing disdain or anger, or sadness, but instead, it made him sick. He didn't understand why he longed for Jehan to just see him. He wanted to talk to his brother face to face, not mask to mask. He wanted to know why, why after all these years had he hid this side of himself, this bright, happy side.

"This is my wife, Melody." Jehan introduced the woman in lavender who now had her hand outstretched.

"Princess.." Hans greeted softly, repeating the same motion he had with Anna before standing up to his full height.

"Could you make me one?" She asked, peeking over at Anna who was still gawking at the cloak. "It gets cold in the Southern Isles sometimes, I'm sure you know that by now."

Hans's smile was wistful. "Yes, I can," He replied, his fingers briefly curled into fists, his heart ached in a way he didn't understand. "I'd be honored."

"Did you make this?" Elsa's eyes lingered on Hans's suit.

He met her gaze for a moment, a moment that felt too short, before replying. "Yes, I did." He grinned almost proudly, grateful for the lie Ravian had given him. "It took me a few years."

A brief smile came on to Elsa's face. "And the mask as well?"

Hans nodded. "The mask too."

The Queen took a step toward him. "Well, I look forward to seeing the face of the man who created such a masterpiece. At midnight, the masks come off." She stalked past Hans and toward a well dressed woman who, like Melody, also wore purple, but in a deeper hue. There were silver gems scattered across the flowing fabric and bodice, and her dark hair had been twisted into an intricate updo.

"Whoa, Cornelia... I need to find Arthur!" Anna smirked to herself as she made her way courageously into the sea of people.

And then there were three. It could be worse. There could be two.

"I'll get you a drink?"

Hans turned to see Melody, her hand lovingly on Jehan's chest, and the Prince smiling. "Please."

The two kissed briefly, and left Hans with a burning in his chest and a lump in his throat, as well as with his brother.

Alone.

Did Jehan feel the same tension he did? Was he aware of the world slowly caving in on them, like everyone had eyes on them, waiting to see what would happen, waiting to hear what would be said.

"So, Corin," Jehan started, stepping to stand beside Hans who bristled, straightened his back, and took a breath. His hands were shaking, his mind racing. "Where on the outskirts do you live?"

Hans cleared his throat. It could have been worse. Much worse. "The eastern border," He answered calmly, "Near the village of Acrine."

Jehan hummed to himself. "The trade village?"

"Yes, exactly."

The elder brother chuckled. "I've taken Melody and Abigail there on a few occasions. There's quite a lot to do as you know."

Hans froze. "Abigail?"

Jehan looked at the man beside him, a wide smile on his face. "My daughter."

Hans forced a smile to his face, but his hands behind his back were clenched into tight fists.

Of course.

Of course they'd had a child.

Something burned in his heart, something he knew all too well, it was what had driven him to come to Arendelle.

White hot envy.

This man always had something he didn't. He knew it wouldn't have stopped with the betrothal, but now that they'd consummated, sealed the deal on their marriage... God, was there anything this man didn't have?

"I bet she's beautiful."

"She is.." Jehan adjusted his mask over his face before sighing. "She has her mother's eyes and hair, but she has my nose."

A bitter chuckle escaped from Hans's lips. He closed his eyes and reached out to Ravian through his mind, feeling for that warmth, anything resembling the spirit's charisma or ego, but nothing was there. Of course he was never there when he needed him most. He thanked God for Melody coming with the drink for her and her husband.

And an extra?

"Here," She offered the tall glass of champagne to Hans, "You must be dying in that suit."

Hans smiled and took it gratefully. He looked between the two of them and almost had to look away. He didn't want to look at the beautiful nightmare that stared into his eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two alone. Enjoy the night, and thank you." He lifted the glass to the two before turning on his heels.

He made his way to the walls of the room, finding the shadows rather comforting. All his life, he'd wanted to escape them, but every time he did, there was always a brighter light, something or someone that would put him back in his place. Even when he tried, even when he did everything he could, he always ended up the same way. Alone, disregarded. His eyes lingered on Jehan and Melody a little longer, watching them hold each other, talk, laugh, dance together, even kiss.

He shook his head as he took a large gulp of the drink, thankful for the way it stuck in the back of his throat as he swallowed it down, the way it made him feel lighter, the way it kept the water welling in his eyes at bay for just a moment longer. His eyes caught Anna on the dance floor, dancing with Kristoff.

That was the name of the Ice Master. A commoners name. How had she ever been allowed to fall for him? In the Southern Isles, it was wealth over love, power over everything else. Things like happiness were second rate, even for those who had no immediate responsibilities like Hans.

It was competition.

It was war.

It was pain.

It was never love.

It was never the happiness he saw on the face of the red-head, her laughter that cut through the air, and infected everyone except for Hans who'd been immune to such things since he was a boy.

He scoffed as his eyes continued scanning the crowd of people. The Prince and Princess of Corona had been invited, they weren't all that hard to spot dressed in sun inspired clothing and masks, and the former thief's rugged goatee on his chin was hard to ignore. The woman he'd seen Elsa walking toward earlier was talking with a man. Tall and a mop of curly hair, a silver suit and trousers and a glamorous mask. Arthur, he recalled Anna saying. The two were picture perfect, and when it came time to dance, a little touchy.

That feeling of envy resurfaced, and his jaw worked as he scoured the room again, his eyes finally landing on Elsa in all her radiant splendor. The way she talked to a couple on the elderly side, warm and welcoming in a way he hadn't seen before, her smile like her sister's, although this was brighter. The crown that glittered in her hair. He hadn't seen it before, maybe he'd been too focused on her face.

He forced the heat in his face down.

So he had been a little too focused.

His eyes went back to the Queen where Anna was suddenly by her side, their hands intertwined, the two embracing.

There was no urge, this time, to want to tear the two apart for what they'd done to him. There was no wanting to burn them both on a pyre, instead, there was a longing to have what they did, to have that smile on his face..

He finished off the alcohol and set it down on a passing server's tray. His eyes searched for an exit, any place that he could escape to. He needed to find Ravian and they needed to leave. He couldn't stay here in a place that boasted everything he could ever want but never have. The smell of perfume was suddenly overbearing, enough to make him want to cough. He spotted a guard by a doorway, and Hans smiled.

The guard turned his head a few times, as if making sure no one could see him, rather no one would notice if he was gone, and turned to leave the crowded room.

Hans's brows furrowed, and he made his way toward the exit. "Excuse me... pardon, sorry. I just need to get through here, hehe."

After more than a few awkward brushes, he was free of the crowd, and stalking down the hall which felt a little too vacant. He approached the end of the hall, shaking his head. He must have been seeing things, but at least he had peace and quiet.

"...ready, and tell him it's all clear."

Hans's breath caught at the morsel of a conversation. He perched himself behind the corner, taking his mask off and peeking out behind the wall.

There were two guards, the one he saw leave, who was burly and strong. The other was meek, nervous looking. "I actually think she does a good job.." The meek one shrugged, "This party is nice."

"Yeah, she can throw a party, but she can't run a kingdom."

The meek one bit his lip. "But she can. There hasn't been any war, no conflict. We're prospering!"

"Yes, because people are too scared to attack us! Our Queen is a witch, and she's a freak, and she's dangerous. Did you see what she did to the council chambers? It's for the best. Once Damien rules the Kingdom, the people will be grateful. You'll see."

"But-"

"Soren, go!" The toned one shouted. "We don't have all day. The others are in position already. They're just waiting for the signal."

The meek one who Hans now knew as Soren, opened his mouth as if to protest again, but all that came out of his mouth was compliance. "Yes, sir."

He ran off down the hall, and Hans put his mask back on, walking urgently back toward the throne room.

He had to warn Elsa.

He suddenly stopped as he reentered the room. Why should he care? Shouldn't he want this? Shouldn't he be endorsing this, whatever was about to happen? Shouldn't he want her out of the way? He swallowed, biting his lip.

Their words, the way that one guard spoke about her, he understood now. He understood completely as he remembered his uncle's shouts, calling him a monster, his own nephew. It was that memory, the feeling of wanting to save her from that which had him rushing into the crowd, searching for the shimmering dress of peach and eyes of warm ice.

"Corin!"

Melody's bright voice cut through his concentration, forcing Hans to look at her. "The next dance is about to start.." His eyes flicked to her hand which was now outstretched. In any other circumstance, this would have been his dream. He would have been selfish and took her, held her until the night ended.

But the night was about to end.

"I-I'm sorry, Princess, but I'm actually about to leave." He gave a convincing frown as his eyes darted across the room, to the guards closing the doors.

Locking them.

"I was just about to say goodbye to the Queen before I went on my way."

Melody's face showed understanding. "Then I won't keep you. It was nice to meet you."

Hans smiled. "Yes.. it was nice to meet you as well."

He stepped away from her and turned his head. His eyes landed on a display of white and peach.

Elsa.

He moved to push through the crowd, but was cut off every time. Every angle he thought he saw was covered, like fate wanted him to fail. Frustration coiled in his stomach, fear in his heart.

His head became light, and this time it wasn't from the alcohol.

The perfume smell was too strong once again, the heat from everyone around him was overbearing.

The mask obstructed his vision enough to make him feel like he was an animal trying to escape from a cage.

For a moment, all he could hear was the shallowness of his own breath.

Then, a scream.

And a hundred others followed suit. Fear took control of the party, people were rushing toward the doors, trampling over others.

 _Ravian!_

He yelled in his mind.

There was still no reply. He was on his own again, alone in a sea of fear and chaos. And revenge.

He could taste it in the air, a sharp tang of distaste and eagerness to hurt.

It was something he knew, and he could stay calm through it all. He turned every which way, searching for the catalyst. A woman lay on the ground, blood pooling around her from a small yet vicious hole in her stomach.

A knife, he deduced. Or maybe a sword.

There was another scream, and Hans's eyes went wide as he saw Anna stepping back from an Arendelle guard who had his sword raised above his head. "Kristoff!" She cried, but the Ice Master couldn't hear her. "Kristoff!"

Hans's legs moved without hesitation. He stepped in front of the Princess and reached for the guard's sword. For a brief second, there was only the cold of the metal on his skin, then warmth, then red, then pain. He hollered as he held the sword in place with his other arm, ignoring how it had embedded itself into the skin of his forearm. The guard growled as he struggled to take back the blade, and Hans took his chance. He slammed his head into the guard's forehead.

"Agh! Damn it! Jesus!" The man stumbled back, gripping his eye.

Hans struck again, taking the sword's pommel and slamming into the guards head.

The man fell to the ground.

"Go." He ordered, turning to look at the Princess.

"What? No. I'm not just leaving you to fight them on your own."

Hans had forgotten how stubborn the girl was. He turned and handed the girl the blade. "Fine, but be careful."

Anna grinned, but it faded as she looked at the man's arm. "Will you be alright?"

Hans smiled back. "I'll be fine."

The Princess ran off, helping to fend off her own guards. Hans turned to examine the room, the bodies strewn across the floor, the red that flowed from them.

Bile rose in his throat, as well as anger.

 _Ravian!_

He called, but there was no answer. Again.

He growled, clenching his fists in frustration.

 _You stupid spirit! Why are you never here when I-_

A sharp pain in Hans's stomach made his knees weak. His head felt light, and he fell to his knees.

His breath got caught in his throat. He pressed his hand to the source of the pain and his fingers came back red.

 _I'm coming._

"It's about time..." The former prince choked out only to himself.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at his assailant, the same burly guard from the hallway, smirking over him. The guard raised his sword, red with Hans's blood, over his head.

It couldn't end like this. If he did, his brothers, and Ravian, would never let him live it down.

Pushing through the pain, he stood and roared as he tackled the man, carrying him into the wall.

The guard grunted, dropped his sword, and Hans sent his bloodied hand into the man's stomach.

The man's eyes went wide, and Hans brought his other hand up, catching the man in the jaw. His head banged against the wall and he fell, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Hans let out a breath and turned. Some of the ground was covered in ice. Elsa looked unharmed, but angry, and she held her hand outstretched, throwing a guard against the wall with a huge gust of wind. He'd be incapacitated for a while.

 _click_

Hans's eyes snapped to the stairs, where a guard held a crossbow.

Aimed right at Elsa.

All the pain left him for the moments he sprinted toward the woman, it was a race against the trigger.

His steps felt too small, time seemed to slow down. Everything resumed as normal as he held the Queen in his arms, using his body to shield her, bracing himself for the pain that inevitably came. His entire body tensed as the arrow pierced his back, just below his shoulder blades. His arms came tighter around her, holding on desperately.

He waited for the second arrow, waited for more pain.

"I got him!" Hans turned his head and sighed gratefully, happy to see the spirit waving at him from the stairs, the guard on the ground and unconscious by his feet.

Hans broke away from Elsa and he could feel his cheeks going scarlet. Thank god for the mask. "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

The Queen could only look at him for a moment. She'd taken her mask off to fight, displaying every emotion. There was fear, but there was also relief, and a lot of gratitude.

"I am.." She replied, offering him a soft smile. "Thank you."

Hans went to take a step back, but ended up sinking to his knees. Black spotted the outskirts of his vision, the perfume smell which was now combined with blood was beginning to fade away, the lightness in his head was beginning to worsen, and the pain became unbearable.

"Corin!"

Elsa's shouts were vague noise to him. He couldn't answer her even if he wanted to. His eyes fluttered closed, and it was then he heard the clock began to chime.

 _1_

 _2_

 _3_

 _4_

Elsa called for Anna. Jehan appeared as well with Melody who sunk to her knees and took Hans's hand.

 _5_

 _6_

 _7_

 _8_

"Thank you.." Anna's words were barely audible, "For saving me."

 _9_

 _10_

 _11_

 _12_

Midnight.

Elsa reached for his mask, and Hans weakly lifted his hand to protest, but she'd already taken it off.

Shock erupted around him. Jehan's face was white. Anna stumbled back into Kristoff's arms, her eyes incredulous. Melody's hand came to cover the gasp that escaped her mouth. He met Elsa's eyes for a brief moment. Her look was the only one he couldn't decipher. His lids became too heavy to keep open, and the last thing he heard as the world around him faded away was Elsa's voice.

"Get him a doctor."

* * *

A/N: So, this had been a long time coming lmao. Things with school had really picked up and I was in the middle of college apps so things had gotten really really busy. Anyway, I'm not dead, I promise. Things are just coming along very very slowly. Thanks so much for putting up with the delay and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!


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